


March of the Drabbles

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: And everything in between!, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:12:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 32,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A drabble for every day of the month of March, the prompts for which can be foundhere. Each day will be a random pairing and I will add tags as I go.





	1. Scrosciare - Madara/Tobirama

**Author's Note:**

> Scrosciare - _the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs_

Tobirama’s natural element was water. He was born with a stronger affinity for it than had been seen in several generations, had been drawn to any sizable body of water since he learned to sit upright and splash in the shallows. If given the opportunity he could and would spend hours at a time soaking in a tub or onsen for the sheer pleasure of it.

And yet here he was standing under a natural overhang of rock scowling out at the torrential downpour falling around them. Madara crossed his arms and hunkered deeper against the pack he’d set between the wall and himself, amused to see the world’s paramount water user foiled by his own element.  It was, of course, fairly annoying to have lost the woman they were supposed to be tracking but it was almost worth it to see Tobirama brought down a peg or two. His head had been getting just a bit too big lately.

“Why don’t you just reach out for her chakra, oh great and powerful sensor?” Madara asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway. Tobirama’s scowl was a visual symphony of triumph.

“I’m fucking exhausted,” he snarled back.

No further explanation than that was needed. They were both exhausted. Sending the two of them on the same mission had felt like overkill when all they expected to find was a handful of bandits blocking their path to negotiations with the Land of Lightning but it turned out they were all that kept each other alive when they were ambushed by the very people they had been sent to negotiate with. Hashirama was not going to be happy to hear that another land had rejected his offers of peace. Honestly Madara was far from surprised; it had taken each of them decades just to convince their own peoples, having others reject them off-hand was about the reaction he usually expected.

Shoving one hand out in to the rain, Tobirama allowed the water to pour down between his fingers and slowly his expression cleared as the feeling soothed him. It was something Madara had observed in him before, this deep connection to his element, the way it calmed him on the rare occasion he failed to calm himself.

“We’ll rest here until the rain stops and after I’ve slept I should have the energy to track the rest of them with sensing.” Tobirama turned away from the entrance and shook excess water from his hand, drying the palm against the front of his standard issue vest. “So shove over.”

“Not a chance. I’m quite comfortable, thank you.”

“If you don’t make room for me to fit back there as well then I will fall asleep on top of you. So shove.”

“How terrible,” Madara drawled. “What an awful fate, to have my own partner on top of me. Oh what shall I do to recover from such a traumatic event?”

Tobirama gave him an unimpressed look before quietly declaring, “Fine. Your choice.”

A moment later six feet and two hundred pounds of solid albino muscle flopped down over top of him with no effort made towards cushioning the blow. Madara wheezed and curled around the massive lump covering his legs and halfway up his chest, glaring and spluttering while he tried to find something suitably angry to say when he knew that he had brought this on himself.

“You’re a dick,” he settled for eventually.

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d made room for me to lie beside you. Now shush. I need to rest.”

Madara huffed loudly just to be difficult but made no move to extract himself. Actually Tobirama’s weight on top of him was a pleasant warmth in the otherwise chilly half cave where they had taken shelter. It wasn’t even a properly enclosed area, just two walls and a natural ceiling to keep the weather off of them, but with the traps they had laid and the tree cover around the area it was enough for both of them to close their eyes and think about all the sleep they had been missing over the past few days.

Listening to the sound of the rain cascading over the rock, battering the earth and rustling the leaves of the forest, Madara thought perhaps he finally understood why Hashirama loved nature as much as he did. They were lucky to have been born in the Land of Fire where the world was full of so many colors rather than places like Suna where the desert stretched forever or Iwa where they made even their homes from nothing but rock. As irritating as it was sometimes to get caught in the rain like this, it was hard to imagine suffering through the exact same weather day in and day out with no relief.

Or maybe he was just feeling a little whimsical because he was tired enough to think laying with his partner of four years and listening to the rain was romantic. Madara snorted again, rustling the top of Tobirama’s head.

“You’ve already fallen asleep haven’t you?” he grumbled.

No answer came but steady breathing. When he looked down Tobirama’s eyes were closed and his face gone slack, deep in to unconsciousness for a well-earned rest.

“Hn. Well. I suppose I might as well sleep too if you’re going to trap me here.” Madara wrinkled his nose to hide the smile that wanted to form, not nearly as upset as he was trying to sound. Just in case Tobirama was only pretending to sleep, of course. He’d done that before and there was no need for either of them to embarrass themselves with blatant displays of emotion.

Closing his eyes again, Madara slipped both arms around his partner’s shoulders and let his head loll over to one side, hoping that sleep would find him just as quickly as it had the other. Dreams were always a little less embarrassing than his emotions. At least his dreams were just for him; no one else had to know what sort of mushy crap he thought about in the dead of the night or the plans he made for the future. That was for him to know and the rain to wash away.


	2. Aspectabund - Gaara/Lee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aspectabund - _letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes_

“Do you find me difficult to spend time with?”

Gaara felt his brows pulling together as he turned on the bench to stare at his companion. For someone so well known for their high energy levels Lee still managed to surprise him with the ability to remain completely still when he felt it was needed. He was still now, unmoving as he stared down at his own clasped hands and the thumbs fiddling back and forth against each other with nerves.

Worried that his frown might be taken the wrong way, Gaara made certain to smooth out his expression before he answered in as calm a tone as he could muster.

“No. I have never found your company difficult in any way. Why do you ask?”

“It is something that one of my mission partners said to me recently. He told me that I was ‘exhausting’ and that keeping up with a man of my vigor would be too much for any person to handle without going mad.” Lee flushed with shame. “I had only wondered if you felt the same as he does.”

“You don’t normally allow words like that to get to you,” Gaara pointed out carefully.

He was surprised to see his companion flushing even deeper.

“No, that is true.”

“Then why would you allow them to bother you now?”

Lee squirmed and then stilled, squirmed again, and all the while his expression grew more and more embarrassed. If it weren’t so worrisome it would have been fascinating to watch. Eventually he seemed to find that bottomless well of courage nestled deep within him and took from it the strength he needed to turn and face Gaara with his eyes shining. Fear and worry were there, of course, but also an affection so deep it fairly took Gaara’s breath away and pinned him in place, helpless to do anything but listen.

“I consider your good opinion of me to be more important than almost anything else in my life. The idea that I could drive someone such as yourself away with nothing but my own youthful personality, I couldn’t bear to think about it! Please, Gaara-kun, tell me if I annoy you! I swear that I will run six hundred laps around the village and think hard on all the ways that I can possibly improve myself!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Gaara murmured. Hesitantly, he reached over to pat the hands now fisted earnestly between them. “In no way do I find you annoying or too much to take. I like you just the way you are, Lee, so please don’t change.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. I would not say something I didn’t mean.”

Lee blinked away the tears of joy gathering at the corners of his eyes. “That makes me very happy,” he declared.

That much was plain to see. His entire being fairly glowed where before he had drooped like a wilted blossom. Now he sat with his spine as straight as ever and his eyes were so warm that Gaara felt his cheeks heating up as if to reflect them, embarrassed without fully understanding why. It wasn’t until Lee was bold enough to clasp their hands together that he understood the emotions he could see swimming in the earnest gaze staring down in to his patched and healing soul.

“If that is the case then allow me to say that my regard for you knows no bounds. Gaara-kun is the kindest and gentlest person I have ever met. Someday I hope to win your affections in return! If it does not make you uncomfortable then I will fight for your hand – and if I do not win your tender affections then I will simply try harder!” With determination all but sparkling in the air around him he grinned so widely it forced his eyes to squint closed. He made such a happy image in comparison to the muted and dampened version of himself he had been only a few moments before that it took a bit of staring for Gaara to work himself up to responding.

“You don’t have to fight for anything. I – you already have my affections.”

“Truly!?” Clasping their hands every tighter, Lee ignored his own falling tears with the ease of practice. “May I have the honor of kissing you? It would make me the happiest man alive to do so!”

Gaara could do nothing more than nod a little. He was not surprised to find out that Lee kissed as enthusiastically as he did everything else in life, though he was a bit surprised to discover that enthusiasm did not automatically exclude tenderness. Not much else registered to him besides their lips moving together and their hands, still intertwined, the soft little sounds of joy escaping from his companion until they pulled apart slowly.

“I would like it if you came to visit me in Suna more often,” Gaara choked out around the lump in his throat. He was humbled to see the way Lee gaped at him as though offered an incredible gift.

“Of course!”

He was startled not to hear some sort of personal challenge declared as an incentive but it seemed Lee was more interested in pulling him in for another kiss and, really, Gaara was more than alright with that. Not once had he ever thought of the man beside him as ‘too much to handle’.

In fact he found that he very much couldn’t wait to have even more of Lee all for himself – and as often as possible.


	3. Pyrrhic - Izuna/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrhic - _won at too great a cost_

Izuna traces the tattoo sometimes just as he does with all the others. Out of all of them this one strikes him as quiet and less meaningful than the red slashes that adorn white skin as a constant reminder to their owner of the things he has lost and the wrongs he has done. Convincing Tobirama that he is worthy as a human being and not a monster is a monumental task but, like his brother before him, Izuna is a stubborn bastard. He won’t give up until he’s made his point.

Sometimes he asks for the stories behind the markings and sometimes he even gets an answer. The first time they sat up among rumpled gray sheets in the dark while Tobirama murmured quietly the tale of the tattoos that started it all, that was the night when Izuna first realized they had long passed the line of just fucking around, that they are together now whether they are ready to admit it or not. In public they snap and sneer like they always have but here behind closed doors where no one can see them, here they are learning all the ways to knit themselves together as only two broken people can.

More than a year passes after the first time they fall in to bed together, several months since the first time they whispered quietly in the dark, before finally Izuna thinks to question the only tattoo that differs from the others. Black ink instead of red, letters where the others are drawn as slashes and lines. At first it seems as though tonight is one of the nights when Tobirama will simply ignore his question. More often than not he just isn’t in the mood to delve in to his own psyche and Izuna is far from a psychotherapist; he wants to know but he is hardly going to pry just to satisfy his own curiosity, not when he knows that doing so will hurt the man he has come to love so deeply.

He is only moments away from spitting out some other random thought to change the subject when Tobirama surprises him by beginning to speak, not bothering to roll over from where he is spread out on his back while Izuna’s fingers trace the black letters at the base of his ribs.

“It’s a word I found in a very old text and I had to look through several dictionaries just to find one that still included the definition for a word no one uses anymore.”

“What’s it mean, then?” They both hear his real question even if he doesn’t say it. What could possibly make one word so important that Tobirama felt the need to permanently etch it on to his own skin in such a way that it stands out from all the rest?

Red eyes open just to stare at the ceiling, his expression empty. “Pyrrhic. It means ‘won at too great a cost’.”

“Huh. Well that’s not very specific. Everything in our lives has been won at too great a cost.” Izuna tries to a grin to lighten the mood but Tobirama only continues to stare unseeing at the darkness above them.

“I got it for you,” he admits quietly.

“Oh.” That certainly isn’t what he’d been expecting. Izuna flounders as the silence goes on, trying to come up with something to say to that yet unable to think of anything appropriate. He’s never imagined anything on Tobirama’s body could have something to do with him – he’s still alive, after all.

Tobirama lifts one hand to trace the letters for himself, not needing to look down at them to find their shapes unerringly, gentle in a way he so rarely is with himself. “You very nearly died at my hands and while I am sure that Hashirama would have eventually bulled his way over your brother to found this village anyway I cannot help but wonder sometimes what that world would have been like. He would have everything he ever asked for, we would have won, but at what cost?”

“Cost?” Izuna repeats faintly. He can’t help but notice finally that the letters of the tattoo in question have been placed directly over the same spot where he himself now wears the scar from Tobirama’s blade.

“Yes. It would have cost Madara his sanity and everything that tethers him to this world. It would have cost my brother his best friend. It would have torn the rest of us apart bit by bit until we fell back in to the same pieces we were before Hashirama stitched us all together in to the motley crew we are. And I…” Pausing, Tobirama closes his eyes for a moment and presses the palm of his hand flat over the black ink of his tattoo. “It would have cost me you,” he finishes in a far-away voice.

“To be fair, you wouldn’t have known anything about _this_.” One of Izuna’s hands waves vaguely between them but Tobirama only shakes his head, still without looking over.

“No but that isn’t the point.”

Sitting forward to slide his hand over the other man’s, Izuna squeezes gently until finally their eyes met. “What is the use in getting caught up in what might have been? It didn’t happen and that’s what’s important. Were we even a thing when you got this?” Tobirama shakes his head. “So you were just…wow. You were beating yourself up about this even back then?”

His partner sighs and looks away again but Izuna is having none of that.  With a determined frown he crawls over to slide one leg over Tobirama’s lap, settling himself across slim hips and leaning forward to take the man’s chin in one hand until irritated red eyes meet his once more.

“Don’t be dumb,” he says without preamble.

“Excuse me?”

“I said don’t be dumb! There’s no point in worrying about things that are already done and in the past. Yeah, I could have died from that blade if it had slid in just a few inches higher. And yeah, losing me would definitely have done a number on Mads, he’s been super clingy ever since our other brothers were killed. But I didn’t die and things turned out fine. I appreciate that you don’t ever want to forget the lessons in what might have been but dwelling on it will only drive you crazy.”

He finishes his little speech by raising both eyebrows and giving his partner a significant look. Tobirama frowns at him a little deeper but can’t look away without knocking their foreheads together and so settles for pouting, an expression that makes him look more like an angsting teenager than a grown man.

Several minutes of silence pass between them as Izuna forces himself to stay quiet, not wanting to rush the other but allow him some time to think. Strangely, he finds that he also needs a handful of seconds to allow the knowledge to settle that even back then Tobirama had regretted what he’d almost done, that even before they learned to see past their old rivalry he had been thinking ahead and realizing what nearly became of them all. On the one hand it is very sweet. On the other, well, leave it to Tobirama to find the dark lining underneath the silver lining. He’s a genius but he’s also quite the pessimist a lot of the time.

“We should sleep,” Tobirama murmurs eventually. A smile touches Izuna’s lips at such a blatant request for the subject to be dropped but he has one more thing to say.

“It’s a nice tattoo but I was thinking we could change it. Do you think we could work the letters somehow to say ‘pyro’ instead?”

“Because you like to set fire to everything you lay eyes on?”

“No! Because _you_ like to blow stuff up in that lab of yours – which I am still angry that you won’t let me in to, by the way. I’m not a walking disaster like your brother, I know how to keep my hands to myself!” Izuna considers it a win when Tobirama lets out a single reluctant huff of laughter.

Rather than crawl back over to the other half of the bed he usually claims Izuna lets his body slump down on to the mattress right there, keeping one leg draped across both of Tobirama’s while he snuggles up against the man’s side. For someone with barely any affinity for fire he sure is warm most of the time. A strong arm wraps itself around his shoulders and pulls him in tightly for a few moments before loosening to drape around his waist. Izuna buries his smile against Tobirama’s neck.

“I think I’d rather like to keep it,” he hears from just above his head. “Looking at it has always made me think of you. Maybe now I will think of…better things.”

“Yeah, only fluff and rainbows for us shinobi,” Izuna says.

Tobirama grunts and squeezes him again and this time when silence falls it is only the calm of two men falling in to dreamless sleep.


	4. Rubatosis - Minato/Kakashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rubatosis - _the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat_

Kakashi could remember the earliest years of his life when he had tried so hard to deny the heart beating in his chest even existed, that he had no emotions or at least no need to pander to them like everyone else did. Back then he’d thought of himself as above all that. He had thought – stupidly – that emotions only made a person weak and that to allow himself to feel would be to hinder his own progress towards becoming the perfect shinobi.

Years later and he sort of wished he could crawl back to his own childhood and reach for that blank self-assurance. Or maybe turn off his emotions. Feeling so much and so often could sometimes be likened to a roller coaster ride that he certainly did not sign up for but out of all of them his least favorite emotion was embarrassment.

Heat gathered at the tips of his ears and the back of his neck. Butterflies or something else squirmy churned his stomach in a way that left him wary of the lunch he had only just finished eating and the possibility that it might come back out at a moment’s notice. Sweat gathered in the palms of his hands, leaving them slick and clammy, but he dared not wipe them on his pants for fear of leaving unsightly wet marks or dropping the precious item cradled in the fingers of his right hand.

“Are you shaking?” Minato asked him in a soft voice, the same voice he used to soothe Naruto back to bed during a thunderstorm.

“Maybe…”

“You’re nervous. Oh wow you’re actually nervous!”

Kakashi narrowed his one good eye. “Well of course I’m nervous, I just _proposed_ and you haven’t said anything!”

“Love, we’ve been talking about getting engaged for months.” Minato’s grin could have lit the world in place of the sun as he stepped closer to pluck the ring box from Kakashi’s grasp and pull their bodies chest to chest. “You didn’t actually think I might say no, did you?”

“I mean, you haven’t answered at all so what do I know?”

He could hardly decide which was more disturbing, the terrifying unknown of Minato not answering him directly and feeding that one niggling doubt at the back of his mind or the sensation that his heart might actually beat straight out of his chest. Until now he’d never truly understood the phrase ‘my heart in my throat’ but now he thought he did. Surely that lump in his throat was his poor fragile heart beating frantically, thundering and crashing at a desperate pace, waiting for anything that might be an answer one way or the other.

Sure they had talked about it. After finally admitting their feelings for each other and dating for two years it was natural for a couple to start having conversations about the long-term future. The two of them were no different. Kakashi had mostly bought the ring on a whim because he was, deep in the darkest parts of his soul, a complete cheapskate. They were on sale! Now that he had opened his big fat mouth, however, it occurred to him that they’d never really made any solid plans, only casual chats about possible what-ifs and maybes and somedays. What if this was still too early?

“My answer is yes, of course.”

“What?”

Minato laughed and lifted up on his toes to press their lips together. “Kakashi, of course I want to spend my life with you. I would have stayed whether we got married or not. The ring isn’t the important part to me, just being with you is all I would have ever needed.” He pulled back a little and hefted the ring box with a smirk. “That said, you offered and there no take backsies in this sort of thing. I believe this belongs to me now.”

“Oh you are just a _dick_.” Helpless, Kakashi began to laugh.

“What else is new?” Minato asked.

“Can I put that on you now? Before I strangle you for being a jerk about this and making me think I’d done something terribly wrong?”

“Yes, yes. Make your claim. I certainly hope you bought a matching set; I won’t have you wandering around the village with an unmarked hand. It’s only fair that I get to stake my claim too!”

Kakashi snatched the ring out of its box. “Primitive.”

“Romantic, I think, is the term you’re looking for.”

“No, you’re just a barbarian.” They were both smiling as Kakashi slid the ring on his partner’s finger. “Well what do you know? It fits.”

“I should hope so. You only measured my finger three times when you thought I’d fallen asleep after that first conversation.” Minato’s smile was perhaps a bit more teasing than Kakashi’s but it was possible he was trying to distract from the tears of joy misting both corners of his eyes.

Either way Kakashi didn’t bother to comment on that. He took a moment to admire the sight of his ring on Minato’s finger – and then couldn’t stop staring as it slowly began to hit him that this was all really happening right now. They had just gotten engaged. He had asked Minato to marry him and gotten a _yes_. There would be a wedding and a public kiss and they would vow to spend the rest of their lives together. Some faint corner of his mind wondered absently if Naruto would like to be the ring bearer or if he would expect to stand as his father’s best man.

“We’re gonna get married,” he whispered finally. Fingers under his chin brought his face up to meet Minato’s gaze, warm and gentle, understanding but also a little amused.

“Second thoughts?”

“Can we just elope? I mean does the whole world _really_ need to watch us smooching? That feels a bit like an invasion of privacy to me.”

His partner laughed – a lot harder than Kakashi really felt was necessary – and folded the ring box to tuck it away in one of the hidden pockets inside his haori. “Well, what about this. Technically I still have another full hour for my lunch break since I knew you were coming to see me today and I scheduled this as a work meeting. How about we pop home for a bit and... _discuss wedding plans_? I’m sure there’s something I can do to convince you to have at least a small ceremony.”

Suddenly the heartbeat in his chest was racing for a whole other reason. Kakashi waggled his eyebrows as he tucked Minato up against his own chest, bending down for a much deeper kiss than before. The two of them disappeared in a swirl of leaves just as the door clicked open but he didn’t bother to check who was coming in, didn’t much care.

They had wedding plans to discuss.


	5. Trepverter - Hashirama/Izuna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trepverter - _a witty response or comeback you think of only after it’s too late to use_

“Sharper than your gaze will ever be.”

Madara jerked, having forgotten he was not alone in the room, and looked over to where his only surviving brother was lying upside down on the couch, feet tossed over the backrest and head drooping from the seat cushions to stare at the wall. “What?”

“That’s what I should have said.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

“Hashirama! When we sparred today he was admiring my blades because he said he’d never seen such a fine point. I should have said ‘They’re sharper than your gaze will ever be’.”

“Disgusting. Who taught you to be such an awful sap? It certainly wasn’t me.” With a roll of his eyes Madara set his gaze back on the letter he was reading.

From the couch their came the sounds of offended huffing and a young man scrambling to right himself so he could defend his romantic efforts. “Look, just because you’re so sour that you’re going to die alone doesn’t mean I have to follow in your oversized footsteps.”

“I do not have big feet!”

“Why do I always think of the perfect thing to say hours after I talk to him?”

Madara took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and questioned his own sanity for even bothering to get involved in this conversation. “How is that the perfect thing to say? Wouldn’t it be an insult? You’re calling him dumb. I mean, granted, he _is_ dumb.”

“No! I was saying that he has soft eyes!”

“Is that the sort of compliment you should be giving a shinobi?”

“This is why you don’t have a partner, Aniki. You always think of being a shinobi first and a man second. I was _trying_ to compliment Hashirama as a person like any other normal human being would!” Izuna narrowed crossed his arms and turned away to stare out the window. When it became clear that he had been irritated in to giving up on the conversation Madara breathed a sigh of relief and went back to his letter once again.

Both of them jumped at the sound of a knock of the front door, their eyes meeting only to narrow in suspicion. The irascible clan head and his tempestuous little brother didn’t exactly get a lot of visitors. After a moment Izuna shrugged and moved to go answer the door but it wasn’t necessary as it banged open on its own before he could take more than a single step. Hashirama’s voice echoed cheerfully down the hall, snapping Izuna’s spine straight with nerves and encouraging Madara to drop his face in to both hands with despair.

Their Hokage popped his head around the corner with a wide smile and one hand waving to them both sheepishly. “I don’t mean to barge in but I needed to speak with Izuna for a moment.”

Giving his best friend a long hard stare, Madara closed his eyes and prayed for patience yet again. Then he stood up and headed to the back yard while grumbling under his breath about idiots who needed to get their shit straight. Izuna was fairly sure he also heard something about not wanting to witness any inappropriate displays but it was hard to concentrate on the retreating grump when such a delicious hunk of Senju was stepping further in to the room wearing such a bright and pretty smile.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Hashirama said.

“No, not at all. He wasn’t being very good company anyway.”

“Ah. Well, I hope he cheers up soon.” His grin widened until it threatened to take up his whole face and Izuna bit his lip to keep any possible comments regarding cute idiots to himself.

Instead he asked, “Was there something I can help you with? You said you had something to speak with me about.”

“Yes! Earlier, before I invited you to go for a spar, there was something I should have said but didn’t. And then I was sitting in my living room this evening and I realized the opportunity I missed so I came over here to say it now.” Despite the hopeful and cheery tone of his words, his body language appeared incredibly nervous. Izuna nodded slowly until he realized the other man wasn’t going to go on without a little encouragement.

“What was it?” he prompted.

“Um…will you hold this for me?”

“Hm?” Hashirama held out his hand and Izuna reached out to accept whatever it was reflexively, wondering at the sudden change in subject. “Alright, I suppose so.”

The warm sensation of Hashirama’s skin against his own was just distracting enough that he didn’t even realize what was going on until his own fingers were woven tightly around another set and a large palm cradled his with aching tenderness. Izuna stared. And gaped. And stared a little harder. He was holding hands with Hashirama, just standing there with their fingers linked in the space between them and not saying anything.

Was this what the man had wanted to say earlier? He’d wanted to use a pick up line!?

“You look like you’re going to faint.”

“Eh?” Izuna blinked, still unable to peel his eyes away from the sight in front of him. “I just might, actually. I think I’m dreaming. At least it’s a good dream.”

“Is it? So this is okay?”

A hysterical giggle escaped. “More than okay. I’ll hold this for as long as you like. I’ll hold it all the way through dinner tomorrow if you want!” He had no idea where the sudden surge of confidence had come from but didn’t bother to question it. Not if it got him results like the blush spreading across his guest’s cheeks.

“Oh, yes, I would like that!” Hashirama shuffled a little closer, his hand closing the grip between them just a little bit tighter as well.

“Really? Ahem, I mean, good. Yes. Was that…all you wanted to talk to me about?”

Hashirama flushed. “Well, there’s one more thing that I’ve always wanted to, er, ‘say’ to you and I suppose that now is as good a time as any to get it off my chest.”

The next thing Izuna knew they were kissing. If he had the breath to say anything he would have said that this definitely ranked among the best conversations he’d ever had in his life. They really were making great progress. Excellent communication going on here. Izuna was practically floating with joy until he heard rustling at the back of the house and remembered that they were not entirely alone, that Madara could come back inside at any moment. While his brother did generally try to stay out of his love life it would be pretty hard to ignore them if they were caught making out right in the middle of the living room.

“Would you like to go for a walk, Hokage-sama?” Izuna lowered his lashed in a sly expression. “We can…practice for tomorrow. I would hate for my social skills to get rusty from lack of practice.”

Something primal and triumphant rushed through him when Hashirama flushed again with a pleased light in his eyes. Taking a step back, he used their linked hands to pull the man towards the front of the house while his mind raced with all the possibilities, empty pathways and deserted back roads where they could go for a ‘walk’ without a hundred people interrupting their private moments.

By the time Madara came back inside, letter finished and wary of what he might find, the house was entirely deserted. Good riddance, he thought. Maybe now he could work in peace.


	6. Hiraeth - Kakashi/Obito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiraeth - _a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Beetlebee's au where Juubi Obito rewrites the world as planned and takes Kakashi with him as the only survivor.

“I can’t remember anymore what is real and what isn’t.”

His voice didn’t quite echo in the cave, muffled by the pelts lining the floor and the empty hangings on the walls. Something told him that the hangings used to be tapestries, beautiful creations depicting great battles and history so ancient it had faded in to legend, but it was hard to believe when he looked and saw nothing but drab gray thread. Was it possible to erase history so thoroughly that the efforts of man ceased to exist even in the things they had created?

Kakashi sighed. He wasn’t sure. There were so many things he wasn’t sure about anymore.

“This is real,” a voice told him from just behind his shoulder. His eyes closed and he refused to look back, refused to react to the fingers tracing his jawline.

“But was it always real?” he asked. “I have dreams…and sometimes I get this feeling like something is wrong. Like _everything_ is wrong. What am I supposed to do with that?” It was difficult to convey just how overwhelming that feeling was when it came but he knew better than to upset the man behind him by trying.

It didn’t happen every day but when it did he found himself reeling, unsteady as though his feet hardly remembered how to balance on the very earth beneath him. Each and every time it was like waking up and he always questioned how he could forget this sensation from one episode to the next. He would question what power could possibly take the memories from him but he didn’t have to, no, not when that power was curling over his back to press gentle kisses against the nape of his neck.

A shiver ran up his spine. This was wrong and right and all the shades of gray in between. The whole world was gray underneath the blossoming green.

“Sleep,” the voice told him. “You always feel better after you sleep.”

“Isn’t it morning yet?”

“Ah. It can be whatever time you want it to be.”

Kakashi took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes to watch the shadows of a shakujo in his peripheral vision. At its behest the wall of the cave melted away like warm butter – and Kakashi wondered what warm butter even was. Did he know what the word ‘butter’ meant anymore? He couldn’t remember what it was to eat food, to need, to _live._ Not anymore. All he knew now was the yearning that sat just under his heart, always calling for something he couldn’t even remember.

Peeling himself away from the arms that tried to hold him wasn’t pleasant but the muted feeling of freedom was like breathing oxygen for the first time in years. It was always like this, he reflected as he crossed the pelt-strewn floor to the newly created opening. Falling in to those arms felt like belonging. Leaving them felt like a long awaited escape. Kakashi had given up on trying to understand just like he had given up on the hundred other mysteries in this dull existence that could never be solved no matter how many times his mind awoke.

Outside the cave hundred of miles of mountains stretched out before them, rising and falling to the whim of the shakujo. Lakes glittered and trees blanketed the landscape. It was beautiful.

And he hated it.

This world was silent in a way that reminded him of things he couldn’t remember, sounds echoing down the corridors of his memory with names that held no meaning any longer. Laughter, bird song, and wind. The ring of metal or the sound of a dozen footsteps all walking together.

“I want to go home,” he heard himself say as he looked out in to the empty, regrowing world.

“This is home now.” Obito stepped up beside him and gestured with one unnaturally white hand, rinnegan trained on Kakashi as it always seemed to be. “I built this, all of this, for you. For us. It’s the perfect world and we rule it together. What else could you possibly wish for?”

Kakashi looked back in to that swirling purple eye and the screaming voices long forgotten faded in to the back of his mind. With a shake of his head it felt as though the dark clouds over him were pushed away. His frown cleared. Why had he been sad? What had he been thinking about just a moment ago? He couldn’t remember but he supposed it mattered very little.

“Perfect world, huh?” He smiled at last and the edges of it were cracked and frayed. “Maa. I guess so. There’s just…this feeling…” Ah well, he decided. Whatever he’d just been thinking about, he supposed he would remember soon enough.


	7. Resfeber - Tobirama/Kagami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resfeber - _thrill felt before an adventure_

For a few moments upon waking Tobirama was aware of little more than the silence around him, the stillness of his bedroom and the warmth of his winter duvet. A contented hum escaped and he would have been tempted to snuggle back down in to the bed for a few more minutes of sleep if not for the crash of noise that snapped his eyes back open. The moment he registered who’s chakra signature was making their way down the hall he sighed and dragged the blankets higher, concealing the smile that wanted to spread across his face with a disapproving frown instead.

“Whatever it is,” he snarled as soon as Kagami peeked around the bedroom door, “I’m sure it can wait until I’m actually out of bed.”

“Ah. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry. Did you move the armor stand? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there before or else I would have run in to it before!” Kagami’s voice carried a sheepish note that had Tobirama frowning deeper to resist the smile.

“Shoo. Sleep.”

“I’m just excited! We’re finally going on a mission together, isn’t that great?”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes when Kagami lunged forward to kneel at his bedside, folding both arms and resting his head on them to grin excitedly. After a few moments of holding the position he twitched and Tobirama sighed. He’d really been hoping to catch a bit more shut eye. Their mission promised to be long and tiring, was it too much to ask that he store up on his rest now while he could?

“We have been on missions together before,” he pointed out. “Dozens of them, in fact.”

“I mean, yeah, but not in ages. Hokage-sama hasn’t assigned us to the same mission since he found out about our relationship.” Kagami’s expression grew stern as though doing so was a great insult despite the fact that he knew very well it was village policy.

Sending two romantically involved people on the same mission usually resulted in one or both of them being too distracted to properly carry out their duties. Inevitably they paid more attention to their partner than to the mission objectives and favored protecting that one person over all others in battle, even to the point of unnecessary injury. Tobirama himself had been the one to suggest the policy way back before the village had been built and Hashirama ruled over only the one clan. He had seen too many of his own kin allow each other to be injured when their special person wasn’t even in any real danger.

Love made fools of everyone, he could remember saying. Feeling the way his heart melted at the ridiculous sight of a grown man pouting, he couldn’t help but think that he’d been more right than he’d known at the time. If fools were to be named then he was certainly a fool for Kagami.

Not that he would allow anyone to say so.

“That does not explain why you are here at the crack of dawn when we are not required to leave the village until nine o’clock. Have some respect for your betters and let me sleep.” With that he pointedly closed his eyes against the adorable sight before him, trying not to chuckle when he heard an insulted little huff from just in front of his face.

“Betters my ass,” Kagami said.

“I will do _something_ to your ass if you don’t be quiet.”

“Promise?”

Tobirama shrank down in to the blankets and hoped they hid the way his cheeks were flushing. He’d never been very good at innuendo – on purpose, anyway. Apparently he was a master of unintended innuendos, though he’d never known that until Kagami and his dirty little mind came along. “Will you just go away and let me sleep?”

“Do you think you’d sleep better with a little extra warmth in there?”

When he cracked his eyes open again Kagami was smiling innocently with a well-hidden mischievous sparkle in his eye. Tobirama paused to stare at him, hoping to impress the desire for nothing _but_ sleep. There would be plenty of time for other activities during the couple of weeks they would be spending with no one but each other for company. Then he lifted the blanket just enough for his partner to shed his weapons pouch and crawl inside.

“You’d better not get all squirmy and wake me up again,” Tobirama threatened. He bit down on some sort of sappy love struck expression as Kagami wriggled around to tuck underneath his chin and then fell still with a happy little sigh that fluttered against the collar of his sleep shirt.

“I’m good,” the younger man promised.

Tobirama hummed and let his eyes slip closed again. His partner had been right, at least, he was indeed much warmer now and with his arms around his favorite person it was so much easier to reach for sleep’s embrace. Next time when he woke it would be to a familiar face and – hopefully – a calm and well-rested body ready to set off on another adventure.

He couldn’t wait to see how Kagami got them in to trouble this time.


	8. Apricity - Sakura/Ino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apricity - _the warmth of the sun in the winter_

Most people usually assumed spring was her favorite season, the time of year when the sakura blossoms fell. It didn’t really matter to her what other people thought, hadn’t for a long time, so she felt very little need to correct such cliché assumptions. In fact, Sakura’s favorite season was autumn. She enjoyed the colorful changing of the leaves, the crisp morning air, and the crunch of dry grass underfoot. Mostly she enjoyed the relief from summer’s heat without yet being forced to bundle up for winter’s chill.

Right now she would have given anything for time to go backwards so it could be autumn again. The cold weather could be suffered and even the snow had its aesthetic merits when she wasn’t slogging through it but the dry skin, that was where she drew the line.

“Are we really out of lotion _again_?” Sakura held the vanity drawer open to stare inside as though another bottle might spontaneously materialize right in front of her. “Didn’t I just buy some last week?”

“Yes but its winter, darling, and we’re both dry from head to toe.” Ino stepped in to the bedroom with a towel around her long wet hair and another around her body, damp from the shower she’d just stepped out of. She was practically dancing on the spot trying to pull clothes from the closet as fast as she could and Sakura paused to watch in amusement. How Ino had gotten to this age without learning to pick her outfit before her shower was a mystery.

Sliding the drawer shut she rose from the vanity and walked over to untwist the towel hiding her favorite golden locks from view. Ino tried to swat her away but Sakura pulled until the towel fell and endless hair came spilling down between them. Then she threw her arms around Ino and, giggling, fell backwards to drag them both down on to the bed.

“Forehead, what are you doing? I need to get dressed! It’s freezing!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can keep you warm.” Sakura leered and pretended not to see the way Ino rolled her eyes at such a terrible line, wriggling them around until she was positioned on top.

“Wow. Bad. Cliché. So overdone.”

“Shut it and let me seduce you.”

That earned her a laugh, distraction enough for Sakura to lean down and nibble at the soft flesh just beneath her partner’s ear. So much skin all damp and clean, so many interesting things she could do to the gorgeous body underneath her, it was hard to decide where she wanted to take this.

Whatever plans she could have made were interrupted when Ino pressed her away with only a soft, “Wait.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” Ino shook her head. “I just…wow.”

“What? Wow what? Don’t freak me out with vague nothing words!”

Her partner laughed. “Quit being a spaz. You just caught the sun at a really nice angle and it…suits you. You look like you’re in a spotlight or something.”

“You’re the one that enjoys the spotlight, Pig.” Sakura tilted one corner of her lips up in a smirk but ignored the mock-offended huff from below, tilting her head back to enjoy the sunlight coming in through the window. It was surprising warm if she stayed still and let herself bake a little bit. The moment was ruined when Ino rolled her hips and suddenly Sakura was warm for a whole other reason.

“Looks like I’m not the only one,” Ino said.

With a hum she leaned forward to draw Ino in to a proper kiss, her fingers sinking in to the damp locks that had caught her attention in the first place. If they made love now they would leave the pillows wet but sometimes sacrifices were necessary for the greater good. Sakura’s fingers tightened their grip, her lips parting and any possible regrets about wet pillows flying out the window. It didn’t matter much anyway. They would probably be dry by the time they met their friends for brunch and came back.

“You know, we’re going to be terribly late if you don’t stop me.” Even as she spoke Sakura was peppering her words with kisses down the pale neck before her and rolling her own hips down in retaliation to the ones bucking up in to her.

“I think you mean fashionably late,” Ino corrected. “And I am more than okay with that.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised by that at all.”

There was just enough time for Sakura to feel smug about getting her way before the world upended itself and she found her back to the mattress with a gloriously naked Ino sitting astride her thighs, her hair ever so slightly fizzy from rubbing around the pillow while still wet.

“You shouldn’t be. I’m full of surprises but my adherence to everything fashionable should not be one of them. Now, let me show you how to _really_ seduce someone.”

“I’m ready for whatever you’ve got,” Sakura purred.

Neither of them said much for a while after that, nothing coherent anyway. Sakura was glad of the distraction from the cold weather but more than that she was glad to take the time to show her partner yet again how much she loved her. Ino would always be her autumn sunshine, brisk in the mornings but growing warm through the day, colorful and sharp. What more could she ask for in the heart of winter?


	9. Messaline - Madara/Kakashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messaline - _soft lightweight silk with a satin weave_

“Do I have to wear this?” Kakashi lifted the sleeve of the robe to sniff dubiously at it. Even through the mask it smelled of dust and neglect, not very pleasant scents to carry around on his back even just for an hour or so.

“It is traditional and we do want to do this right.” Madara flicked his nose to make him jerk back then pulled the sleeve back in to place once it was free.

“No, you want to do this right. I want to blend in with the crowd and hope that some of them forget that I’m even here. Doesn’t that sound nice? It sounds nice to me.”

He wilted when Madara gave him a hurt look. With a soft noise of regret he reached out to touch the other man’s wrist with two fingers, holding that gaze until he had gathered the courage to slip his hand in to Madara’s for a quick squeeze. Today was bound to be painful in some ways but not like this. As much as he had been complaining since the very idea was suggested he was quietly determined that today go as he could bear to manage, if for no other reason than that it clearly meant a lot to the man in front of him.

“You won’t agree to marry me,” Madara said, eyes dropping to one side to feign indifference. “The least you can do is sit still in your fancy clothes while I go through the steps of making you an official member of the Uchiha clan.”

Kakashi chewed on his lower lip but fell silent to allow his partner some peace as he continued to fuss over the garments they were both wearing. They were nice, at least. Under the overlaying scent of long storage he could detect that signature _something_ that identified silk from the Land of Waves, a rare treasure that he was admittedly honored to be allowed to wear. Not many people got the chance to even see it or get close enough to feel the smooth weave, let alone get to wear it, so he might as well appreciate it properly.

He didn’t have to like it though. No matter how nice the silk felt against his skin it was still too fussy and fancy for a walking shadow like him. If this weren’t such a big deal for Madara he would have disappeared behind his book and refused the idea as soon as it had been proposed.

“I don’t understand why is has to be so public,” he mumbled. “Can’t we just do this with a couple of witnesses? Like Izuna and Hikaku and call it a day?”

“We all know how much you don’t like being the center of attention, I get it.”

“Good! So we can compromise then?”

“No.” Madara lifted one eyebrow, the shadows in his eyes clearing to make way for that smug look of his that had first drawn Kakashi to him. “For once in your life you can do something my way; it won’t kill you, I promise. All I’m trying to do is make sure everyone knows that I have first claim on you and if you’re not going to wear my ring then I will have you wear my clan crest.”

There was certainly a lot he could have said to that but since it would have required a great deal of emotional effort Kakashi found it easier to simply nod and go back to inspecting the clothes he was being dressed in. At least the color scheme complimented him, beautiful navy blue and soft summer gold edged in silver thread. Normally he wouldn’t have thought to have gold and silver together but whoever had designed this outfit made it work very well. For all his protests about the pomp and ceremony there was a tiny corner of his heart that was quite excited to have someone so adamant about keeping him but all the same he was quietly grateful not to have such a beautiful outfit marred by the addition of the stark Uchiha symbol on its back.

These clothes were to be the last ones he ever wore not bearing the uchiwa fan. He supposed he was more amused than anything to go out with such a bang.

As Madara flitted around him, pulling a sash tighter here and fixing a hem there, Kakashi closed his eyes and tried to remember precisely why he refused to marry the idiot before him. Something about time travel and not being able to guarantee that he would be able to stay, blah blah broken hearts. Really he should have never allowed himself to get involved with someone in this era and yet here he was about to be inducted in to the Uchiha clan just so Madara could have a break from the elders making noise about their relationship. If he was going to make the choice to never produce heirs the least he could do was to marry within the clan, according to them.

So Madara was inviting Kakashi in to the clan, an easy solution that required no more than a single ceremony. Kakashi just wished it didn’t have to be such a fancy one. Or at least that it could happen in front of fewer people. He’d spent a lifetime dressing himself in the simplest outfits he could find and he just knew that it was a bad idea to trust someone like him with something so precious – and flowy. Tripping wasn’t likely to happen but if even one person tried to hug him in congratulations he would not hesitate to disappear in to the trees, expensive silk be damned. He would definitely feel bad about ruining Madara’s big day, though, so he sort of hoped everyone knew enough to keep their distance.

“There, all done. You look perfect.” Madara stood back to admire his handiwork while Kakashi admired him instead.

“As do you,” he said quietly. And it was true. His lover was dressed in the same formal clothing he had worn to Hashirama’s wedding and it was always nice to see him in something other than his favorite dark purple, even if only in black and white.

“Ready?”

Kakashi shrugged. “To be paraded in front of hundreds of people and probably embarrass myself by being awkward? No. To be yours? Well, I suppose there are worse fates.”

“How romantic,” Madara drawled. Behind the dry tone his eyes were warm, loving, and Kakashi held that image in his mind as they both turned for the door.

In only a couple of minutes he would find himself in the public eye with all attention on him, truly one of his own personal nightmares. Yet the closer the moment drew the more he realized he was actually a little bit excited. He had just enough time to lament that his life was doomed to revolve around brash and passionate Uchiha before Madara opened the door to lead them outside.

Kakashi hid his smile behind the mask that had covered his face for more than two decades, stepping forward with a rustle of silk, grateful that his doom was at least a happy one.


	10. Psithurism - Kakashi/Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Psithurism - _the sound of wind rustling leaves_

If every Saturday could be like this Kakashi thought he would enjoy spending his weekends outside more often. Generally the only time he spent outside was walking the dogs and even that he got out of most days by letting them all chase each other around the backyard. Considering how many of them there were and how quick they were to chase anything that moved he was more surprised than irritated to find an infestation of bugs in his basement, forcing him to call the fumigator and spend his weekend at Gai’s place while they waited for the air in the house to be safe again. He was grateful to his friend for putting them all up, he really was, but there was only so many hours in a row he could stand that much relentless enthusiasm.

He was just lucky that the weather was so nice, warm enough that he didn’t need a proper coat but with enough of a bite that he was glad he already had a habit of wearing fingerless gloves. Positioned as he was up in the cover of a sturdy tree, if he stayed still and let the filtered sunlight keep him warm this was the perfect spot to sit and watch the world go by without anyone bothering him.

Plans for coming back tomorrow with at least one or two of his dogs were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves, the dry scrape of autumn boughs dancing in the wind. Or what he assumed was wind until he realized that everything around him was completely still. Popping open one eye, he leaned over the branch keeping him hidden and looked down to see a slight figure passing underneath him, feet kicking up with every step and sending a spray of leaves up over their own head. Feminine giggles met his ear.

A few more steps and the stranger came around to such an angle that he could see, to his surprise, that she was a grown woman probably only a handful of years younger than himself. Her face was split in a carefree smile and her stylish fall top billowed out around her like a spirit of the air each time she raised another wave of leaves. Watching her, he wondered if he had still been so childish when he was younger. Then he shoved that thought aside with a wry twist of his lips. He’d never been childish – not even when he was still a child. Instead he settled back down to enjoy this unexpected entertainment until that was interrupted as well by a shrill chiming noise.

His unsuspecting visitor paused in her movements to dig around in the purse hanging from one shoulder. After a few more shrill chimes she retrieved a cellphone and held it up to one ear.

“Sakura speaking. Oh, ah, hello Ito-san. I…how did you get my personal number? Mhm. I’ll have to speak with her about that. Well, yes, we’ve been trying to get in touch with you. I’m afraid your court date has been pushed back. Mhm. New evidence. We’ll need time to examine it and–. I understand that Ito-san. Yes. Mhm. You’re very welcome to seek other council but let me remind you that when you came to me I told you that the case was unlikely to sway in your favor but you said – and I am quoting you exactly here – surely since I am the best lawyer in the Land of Fire I can win a simple case like this. Mhm. Ah. Well then I will contact you once the evidence has been delivered. Good day, Ito-san.” She hung up the phone with a vicious jab of her finger. “Moron.”

Unable to help himself, Kakashi began to laugh. Her demeanor on the phone was just so comically different from the carefree giggling young woman kicking up leaves and her epithet after ending the call sent him over the edge.

“Hey! Who’s there?”

“If I ever need a lawyer”-Kakashi paused to wipe away tears of laughter-“I’m definitely calling you.”

“Oh. Oh my god. I had no idea anyone could hear me! I’m so embarrassed!” She stopped to cover her face with both hands and duck her head.

Slipping out of the tree, Kakashi shook his own head with amusement. “Don’t be, I needed a good laugh. My name is name Kakashi and I hear yours is Sakura. It’s…a _delight_ to meet you.” He grinned wider when she groaned.

“Can we pretend you heard nothing?” Sakura pleaded.

“Not a chance!”

She drooped, surprising another laugh out of him, but Kakashi’s interest had been piqued. By the time they separated for him to walk back to Gai’s house he had her number in his phone and a skip in his heartbeat. From up close she was much prettier than he had expected, a little younger too but not enough that he felt bad about the flush on his cheeks as he made his way up the street with light steps.

If every Saturday could be like this one he surely would spend a lot more of them outside.


	11. Lapidoso - Hashirama/Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lapidoso - _full of stones, said of roads or of the bottom of a river_

Sometimes when the moon was high and the day had been long he would come here to get away. His new life wasn’t bad, it was fantastic in fact, a better world than he had imagined in his wildest secret dreams. A world of peace and prosperity that he helped to build with Hashirama by his side.

But therein lay the problem. Spending so much time at Hashirama’s side again was both a blessing and a curse. They had picked up their friendship as easily as though they had never separated, a miracle that he marveled at with every day that went by, yet the more time that passed the more he realized the sweet agony in finally having what he had always wanted. For years he had dreamed of standing with Hashirama and watching over both of their peoples together. Until the day he achieved that dream he had managed to fool himself in to believing that he wanted nothing more.

There was no fooling himself now.

Madara placed each footstep with care, making his way slowly across the placid river until he stood atop the water in the very center, looking down at the rocks below. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight in any way since most rivers had rocks at the bottom but this spot in this river was special. Or it was to him, at least. Here in this one stretch of the Naka River he knew that the bottom was covered with smooth stones perfect for skipping; he knew that two of those stones would have clumsy words carved in to them by childish hands, warnings of danger and pleas for flight. Here was where their destiny had been made and torn apart all at the same time.

Here was where he had fallen in love, although it had taken until they finally came back together again for him to admit it. Logically he knew that he’d been too young at the time to know what love really is but that mattered very little now that they were grown and old enough for him to learn how to hide his longing gazes in the wide collars of his robes.

With how many rocks there were down below Madara wondered if he would be able to sort through them to find the most important, the last rock he had ever skipped across a river. Getting deep enough to root around would mean getting his hair wet though and wet hair had always made him look like a drowning rat. Instead he made his way back across to the bank and listened to the gravel crunch under his sandals. Pebbles and stones clacked against each other as he slowly lowered himself to sit cross-legged, staring in to the sluggish river without truly seeing it.

That was how Hashirama found him an hour later, still staring without seeing, lost in his thoughts of the very man that appeared at his side so suddenly he nearly leapt out of his own skin.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Imbecile! Don’t sneak up on people like that if you don’t want to scare them!” Madara ducked his chin and hoped his collar would hide the flush on his cheeks.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Hashirama asked, crouching at his side.

After considering and discarding the idea of shoving the idiot over sideways, Madara grumbled from within the depths of his robe “Nothing important, I guess. Just thinking. The hell are _you_ doing out here? I thought your brother said he was going to bury you so far under paperwork you wouldn’t crawl back out until next week?”

“Eh-heh…well…” Hashirama rubbed at the back of his neck before settling further down to the ground and leaning over until their shoulders brushed. “I couldn’t concentrate so I wasn’t really getting anything done. He let me escape, I think.”

“Hn.”

They sat in companionable silence for a minute or so. Madara tried to think of anything else but all his mind wanted to focus on was the heat where their shoulders were pressed together, the steady warmth of Hashirama’s chakra next to his own. If he wanted to he supposed he could uncross his arms and reach out to slip his fingers in to the other man’s but he wasn’t stupid enough for that. Of course he wanted to but what he _didn’t_ want was to see the honest regret on Hashirama’s face when the idiot let him down gently.

Of all the possible tortures in the world of shinobi he was sure that Hashirama letting him down gently would be the most painful. Seeing that stupidly attractive pout and those big brown eyes wide with apologies, kind words and soft tone all drawing him in even as he softly raised the wall between them, Madara was sure it would break one of the last pieces of him that remained unbroken.

“Hey,” Hashirama’s voice broke through the trace he had fallen in to. “Do you think…they’re still there?”

“What’s still where?”

“The rocks!” No further explanation was needed. Suddenly his friend was squirming on the spot, though he didn’t get up to leap headfirst in to the river which was actually fairly impressive restraint for him.

“I don’t know. Probably.” Madara shrugged as though it meant very little to him.

Then he squawked indignantly when Hashirama’s face appeared only an inch away from his own without warning. “Let’s go look for them! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“No! What the hell do you even want them for? They’re just a couple of scratched up rocks!”

If he stayed very still then hopefully the other man wouldn’t read it on his face that he had been thinking about doing the exact same thing earlier. No need to bare his heart when he could just make Hashirama feel stupid for having the same ideas. Unfortunately that worked out about as well as it usually did, leaving Hashirama wilted with sadness and a sharp ball of guilt settling in the pit of Madara’s stomach.

Sighing with defeat, he asked again in a _slightly_ nicer tone, “What do you want with them?” and scowled when Hashirama snapped upright with a bright grin like he had never been sad in the first place.

“Don’t you think it would be nice to keep them? I would like to have them so that we always remember where we started. Then we can get old and grey and throw them across the river every year and it would just be so rom- uh…nice. It would be nice.” His attempt to cover the slight fumble with a bright smile didn’t work. Madara narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You were going to say something else,” he drawled.

Hashirama shook his head in denial. “N-no, I just misspoke!”

“Lies. What were you really going to say?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“So you _were_ going to say something else!”

Hashirama opened his mouth, realized he’d ratted himself out, then snapped it shut and hunched over to twiddle his fingers together. “I was, er, I was gonna say romantic. That it would be – I know we’re not an _us_ but…we could be? Stop gaping at me like that! It’s not _that_ weird of an idea, is it?”

“You…see me like that?”

“Wow. I thought you would have noticed. Maybe I really am as bad at flirting as brother says I am. That’s embarrassing.” Hashirama rubbed the back of his neck and Madara felt almost betrayed by how casual the fool was being about this.

Here he was moping over the riverbank on every day he had off and all this time he could have had the one thing he’d been moping about? At least Hashirama could have the decency to be sorry for running his emotions around like this!

“You idiot!” he snarled. Hashirama blinked at him, eyes wide and sad, but Madara had no time for histrionics.

Rather than waste any more time with words he took a fistful of Hashirama’s clothes and pulled him closer to slam their mouths together in a first kiss that felt more savage than romantic. Just the way he liked it. Even better, Hashirama groaned in to it and sent heat rushing down his spine.

“I didn’t think you felt the same,” his friend breathed in the miniscule space between them.

“Shut up,” Madara growled, “and kiss me again.”

Hashirama was only too happy to oblige – as was right and proper. He was the one that had kept Madara waiting, clearly, so it was up to him to kiss it all better.


	12. Liberosis - Izuna/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liberosis - _the desire to care less about things_

“I hate you,” whispered against the skin of his neck, the curve of his ribs, the dips of his abdomen.

Tobirama arches in the fingers that grasp his hips, a wordless plea for those teasing lips to get a fucking move on. Izuna looks up at him with wicked eyes but he closes his own. Can’t meet that gaze. Hates that he already knows the empty look he will find there.

Not that it matters. Izuna doesn’t need him to watch, has never required anyone’s approval for his actions. Just because the other man hates him that won’t stop him from returning to Tobirama’s bed time and again for the promise of a good fucking. Whatever else they lack between them, they have always had an abundance of passion. Fingers clenched in the sheets, teeth biting down on a moan he refuses to let out, Tobirama wishes he didn’t care. Wishes the passion under his skin was still the same visceral hatred that looks back at him every time he opens his eyes.

When Izuna leaves they have both been sated and his old rival looks as smug as the cats he keeps for his clan. When he dresses he leaves the collar of his robes unbuttoned for all the world to see the marks on his neck. Tobirama rolls away to watch the lights go out instead of watching him leave. If he falls asleep before that restless chakra disappears from the house he can pretend that he isn’t going to wake alone.

He doesn’t fall asleep. But he does wake up alone.

They meet again as they always do. Izuna locks the door of his office and Tobirama starts clearing away the files on his desk without bothering to question why, no words between them until Izuna is spread across his lap and tracing the shell of his ear.

“I hate you,” he whispers. He always does.

And in return Tobirama says nothing, tries to pretend the teeth he sinks in to his lip are holding back sounds of pleasure instead of words he can’t bear to say.  He lets his hands speak for him instead. Knows that Izuna will misinterpret his touches and doesn’t care. Is grateful, in fact. Nothing he can think of could possibly be worse than Izuna hearing the things he both longs and fears to cry out – except perhaps the aftermath that would surely come afterwards, the loss of even this frayed and jagged connection between them.

His head tilts back to stare at the ceiling as Izuna writhes in his lap but it doesn’t stop his peripheral vision from watching their shadows dance and sway on the wall beside them. They look good together, he’s always thought so. From a very young age they have always been matched well, each a perfect foil for the other, and in this too they are just the right kind of compliment for each other. Watching the shadows he can imagine what their bodies looks like, Izuna’s pale skin against his own paler flesh moving together as though they have all the time in the world for this endless euphoric lie.

Except neither of them are really naked. They never are, not fully. He leaves it to Izuna to decide how much of their clothing comes off and he’s never surprised when his partner – in only the vaguest sense of the word but he is allowed his delusions as much as the next man – disrobes them only enough to sate their lust. Tobirama wonders what it would be like to lay himself bare for Izuna’s eyes and know that he is the only thing in that fathomless mind.

It happens eventually, as he should have known it was bound to, that Izuna comes to him on one of the rare nights when Hashirama convinces him to partake of the sake his brother drinks from too freely. With alcohol on his tongue he presses the other man back against a wall and with a fog in his mind he drinks, devours, inhales, consumes. He takes and gives and Izuna’s cry is all the reward he could ever ask. Sake drowns the world around them until he hears the words he craves and hates in equal measure and doesn’t realize until too late that he is responding to them at long last.

“I hate you.” Izuna’s breath is hot but his words are breathy, new, untested.

Tobirama’s eyes are closed and in his mind they are making gentle love even if he’s sure there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to make him believe in the fantasy. “I wish I hated you,” he hears, registers that it sounds like his own voice.

“You–!” Whatever the other man was about to say is cut off as Tobirama slides inside of him, hips gentle where his fingers are not.

“I wish I hated you,” he repeats, again and again, a mantra that isn’t even true. For all the pain it causes him he doesn’t have it in him to reach for the old hatred. What he wants more than anything, he wishes he never fell in love.

They never make it to the bed. Every nerve in his body feels over-sensitized and something about that frantic energy seems to affect Izuna as well, bringing them both crashing over the edge much too soon. Or maybe it isn’t too soon. For all Tobirama knows they could have been there against the wall for hours; time feels as though it is all melting together and the rush of such an intense orgasm does nothing to help that. When he can breathe again he is curled in to Izuna’s body in what he might almost call a lover’s embrace if not for the way strong hands are pushing at his shoulders.

And so it ends, he thinks, until one hand catches his chin and he is just surprised enough to look Izuna in the eye. They are dark and deep and so full of emotions he cannot name. Not empty, he recognizes through the haze.

“You don’t hate me,” Izuna says, still panting from their efforts. Tobirama flinches.

Rather than answer – rather than incriminate himself any more than he already has – he pulls away as gently as he can without being obvious about his gentleness. He doesn’t say that they shouldn’t do this anymore because he already knows that he is weak, that he will fall back in to the fire no matter how many times it burns him. But Izuna does not let him get farther than straightening his clothes before forcing their eyes to meet once more.

“Say it. Tell me the truth.”

“No.” Air leaves his lungs in a soft sigh as he realizes that with just one word he has said more than he ever wished too. Tobirama is helpless, adrift in the overwhelming sea of his own emotions, until Izuna tightened his grip.

“You don’t hate me,” he breathes and Tobirama can do no more than stare at him with no answer.

He is drawing seals in his mind and wondering if it’s possible for anyone not of the Yamanaka to learn how to erase memories when Izuna draws him in for a kiss that is _different_ , a kiss that is soft and slow in a way they have never been with each other. A kiss that feels and does not fight.

“Do you ever say something just to make yourself believe it?” Izuna traces the markings on his cheeks. “I thought if I said it enough times we would both believe it.”

And just like that Tobirama understands. “I did,” he confesses needlessly.

He sees the other man parting his lips to say something more but right now isn’t the time for heavy words. Right now he is drunk and he cannot tell if the room is spinning from the alcohol or from the shock but it doesn’t matter. Right now he presses Izuna back against the wall and he touches with all the softness he has held back since the very first time, eyes wide and staring and greedily drinking in the secrets he has always thought buried within only his own heart.

It’s never occurred to him that he isn’t the only one that wants the things he already has.  


	13. Cafune - Izuna/Kagami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cafune - _the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love_

“I hate the desert.”

“Mm.”

“Everything here is too hot and too dry.”

“Mm.”

“Fucking sand _everywhere_. Why does anyone even live out here?”

“Mm.”

Izuna pursed his lips and turned to the young man at his side. “Are you even listening to me or are you just making that noise to make me feel like you are?”

“Mm.” The poorly-concealed smirk on Kagami’s face said that he was very aware of how annoying that sound was but also that he clearly did not care. How rude of him. If Izuna weren’t so hot he could barely breathe then he would definitely be taking some sort of petty revenge for that.

As it was the heat of the desert had sapped every ounce of energy he had to spare, leaving him barely enough to continue walking as they searched for a place to take shelter for the night. They had spotted some promising looking rock outcroppings several hours back and yet no matter how quickly they walked it seemed as though they never got any closer. Had he mentioned how much he hated the desert? On top of everything else in this miserable wasteland it just had to play tricks on his eyes. As an Uchiha he took that as a personal insult. Their eyes were supposed to work perfectly at all times and anything that made him feel otherwise was a mortal enemy on basic principle.

Kagami continued on unaffected by Izuna’s pointed silence. Of the two of them he was dealing with their surroundings much more calmly, taking it all in stride as though he was regularly in the habit of taking walks through scorching temperatures and air so dry it turned one’s tongue to sandpaper. It was actually quite irritating how well he was faring. Some people just didn’t know when to suffer.

“Oh, we’re here.” His partner’s voice made Izuna look up to see that they had indeed made it to the rocks he’d been starting to think were nothing but desert illusions.

“Finally!” An extra burst of speed brought Izuna stumbling in to a jagged natural cave lined with piles of sand blown in by the wind but at least took them out from under the sun, markedly cooler than everything else around them. Here they could rest until night came and travel when the heat wasn’t so debilitating. By the time Kagami ducked inside as well Izuna had kicked as much sand away from one corner as he could and flopped down to close his eyes.

Too exhausted to even care about how rude he was being, he largely ignored the sounds of Kagami bustling around to set up camp for the evening. His ears picked up the sounds of a tent going up and he thought that was probably a good idea. Even if they were inside a cave he still didn’t want to wake up with a mouthful of whatever the wind saw fit to blow in over them. It wasn’t until gentle fingers traced the side of his jaw that he realized he was halfway asleep where he sat and shook himself back awake.

“Wassamatter? Is it time for bed yet?”

“Almost. Scooch forward a little; I’m not letting you crawl in to my blankets with all this sand in your hair.” Kagami patted his shoulder as if to show him where to go.

“Yeah, alright.”

It took a bit of shuffling but eventually he managed to scoot forward enough for his partner to kneel down behind him and work free the leather thong binding his hair in its usual tail.  His entire body cringed at the feeling of the matted locks flopping back down. As soon as their mission was completed he was racing back to Fire Country at top speed, finding the first body of water he happened across, and soaking in it for at least a full twenty four hours. Maybe more. That was the only way he was ever going to get clean again or get a little moisture back in to his skin. A few more days of this and he was going to shrivel up; Kagami would have to leave him behind, just another victim of the merciless desert.

He did his best not to move as Kagami scraped nails along his scalp and gently worked in to the hair draped down his back. Actually the longer he worked the better it felt to have fingers very carefully peeling the strands apart and encouraging the sand to come pouring out with a soft sound that could almost be likened to rain.

“You just wanted an excuse to play with my hair,” Izuna murmured after several minutes of silence. Then he flinched when it was jerked in retaliation.

“I can do that any time I want. Quiet and let me finish.”

With a bit of grumbling he did as he’d been asked, closing his eyes and letting himself drift again. Five more minutes passed before he was finally declared as clean as he would be getting. Izuna patted at the back of his head and yearned for that day-long soak again.

“So…does this mean you’re going to let me crawl in to your blankets then?” He gave a sleepy grin when Kagami leaned around to grace him with a small kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Any time,” was all the answer he got.

But it was all the answer he needed. Izuna crawled towards the tent with his hair loose and his eyes already closing, ready for rest so they could get up tomorrow and do this all over again.


	14. Ignipotent - Madara/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignipotent - _presiding over fire_

The temple was not empty when he arrived but Tobirama wasn't bothered much by that. He was in no hurry today; he could afford to wait for the other patrons to finish their worship before someone could see him. Finding a quiet place to set down the pack containing all of his worldly possessions, he settled down cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes.

Several hours later he was awakened by the sound of approaching footsteps, loud and sharp in the otherwise empty room. He wondered if no one had noticed him sitting there in the dark corner. The sky beyond the stained glass windows was dark with evening; the priests were probably headed home for the evening when they finally spotted him. Irritating but at least he'd not had to sit there and wait the entire time for each of the other patrons to finish their duties. Patient he might be but it was always better not to have to wait for things.

He eyed the man approaching him with a critical eye. Dark hair combed and oiled then left free to billow around him like solid smoke, eyes like coal that burned where they laid their gaze on him, a short but sturdy build. If not for the fact that Tobirama was fairly sure priests of all religions were forbidden from having a relationship with anyone but their respective gods he might have allowed his gaze to drop further and admire any other interesting features he found there. As it was he forced himself to stop at the man’s chest and inspect the stylized flame stitched out in golden thread.

Once upon a time he too had been able to afford such luxuries as well. As a child he had draped himself in the finest fabrics and gorged himself on the rarest of fruits whenever the mood took him to do so. Now he could hardly remembered what it tasted like to eat a meal not thick with preservative salts or drink water not pulled from whatever river he happened to be passing by. Life had changed a great deal over the years and only some of that had been by his own choices.

"How fare you traveler?" When the man spoke his voice was a low growl and Tobirama pursed his lips at the barely contained temper obvious in even that polite greeting. "The temple is closed, I am afraid. If you wish to worship then I suggest you come back tomorrow. We are not an inn."

"I have no wish to make offerings unless necessary. What I seek are words."

"Oh I've got words for you," he could hear the man grumbling lowly.

Reminding himself that if he lost his own temper he would get no answers in return, Tobirama took a deep breath before speaking again. "Information, I need information and I have very few other places left to look but straight in to the fire."

"Hn. Ask your questions."

"First I would know how your worship works. You speak for the fire, yes? Or does it listen to you? I'm not very religious; never thought it was all that important to know this shit." A terrible oversight, that. He'd had lessons as a child, of course, just as all the other children of privilege, but he remembered thinking them boring and sneaking in texts from his other lessons to read instead.

Perhaps if he had learned to listen to the fire back then he wouldn't have to ask someone else to do so for him now. The priest eyed him as though wondering whether or not to reveal such things and Tobirama frowned. He hadn't even asked the difficult questions yet and already the man was being tight-lipped. Maybe he should come back tomorrow and seek out someone else to speak with. Just as he thought to do so, however, the man finally spoke.

"The fire listens to our pleas and we interpret the response it gives, although such responses are not always what our supplicants are looking for. As always, I warn you that the fire does not care for earthly woes but follows its own path."

"A destructive path," Tobirama said.

"Can you blame a bird for flying?" The priest demanded. "None should ever blame a fire for burning for that is its nature. Blame the one who gave the fire a place to feed."

Seeing his opening, Tobirama rose to his feet. "That is precisely what I am trying to do. If you would allow it, I wish to ask the flames one question."

"Only one?"

"Yes. Wait...two. Possibly two questions, depending on the answer to the first."

Eyeing him dubiously once more, the priest blew out an exasperated sigh but turned and beckoned him forward. Out of sheer habit Tobirama found his eyes dropping down to admire the sight before him. Dedicated to his god or no, that was the finest ass he'd seen in a long time.

When they approached the altar where the ever-burning fires danced and cast their shadows he sort of expected something dramatic or at least respectful. Instead all he got was an unfairly attractive priest coming to an abrupt halt and waving one arm unceremoniously at the threadbare pillows below the altar.

"There you go. Present yourself and ask your questions. Honestly if I wasn't so damn curious I'd have kicked you out already."

"My utmost thanks," Tobirama drawled, doing his best to be obvious about his insincerity. He got the impression that the other man only barely resisted sticking out his tongue. Kneeling on the pillow, he set aside the cranky priest and let the memories he hated most well up inside him. “Spirits of fire, I ask this of you because I have no other options. Long ago you were set free amongst my people, within my home, and you claimed the lives of my two younger brothers. I seek the name of the one who sent you there to feed.”

For years he had sought the man who set fire to his home and for years he had followed trail after trail only for each and every one of them to grow cold, always just when it seemed he might finally have the answers he so desperately craved. His only surviving brother now lived in the house that had been built over the ashes of the one that burned down but it had taken only a month for Tobirama to realize that he could not rest there, could never feel at home there until he had found the ones responsible for Itama and Kawarama’s deaths.

Only justice would bring him rest.

Since that day he had wandered as a vagabond searching every corner of every country, chasing even the smallest scrap of information regarding enemies of the Senju family. In his self-importance he had assumed he could find the perpetrators without asking the fire spirits’ help and yet…

“They have an answer, if you wish to hear it.” The priest’s voice was much less angry now, Tobirama noted.

“I will hear it.”

“ _Weary traveler, burning heart, the one you seek feeds us still. By the name of Ginkaku may he be called._ ”

Tobirama drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Spirits of fire, I ask that you tell me where to find this man.”

“ _By the bones of the brother he sacrificed does he reside in the place where he first bade us to feed. My priest will lead you there_ – wait what!? No! I don’t want–!” The voice behind his left shoulder cutoff suddenly when the flames on their altar rose up in response to his protests. With eyebrows raised, admittedly at least a little afraid of angering the spirits, Tobirama turned to see the man behind him subsiding in to a pout. “Alright fine! But I don’t like it!”

When Tobirama looked forward again the flames were dancing with a funny little hiccup and he realized with no small amount of wonder that they were laughing.

“Alright get up, you, they’re not saying anything more than that. Stupid fucking…I like it here! I don’t know what’s gotten in to their heads to make me traipse halfway across the continent just to play guide for you!” The priest huffed several times out of his nose while Tobirama very carefully did not suggest just pointing out the location on a map. On the one hand he was curious to see how long it would take the man to think of that on his own. And on the other hand, well, it had been quite some time since he’d had any company on his travels. Having such an attractive companion certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“Do I get to know the name of my guide or shall I continue to just call you ‘priest’?”

“My name is Madara,” was his growling reply. Tobirama rolled the name off his tongue a few times.

Then he stood from the pillow, bowed to the flames, and turned to offer Madara his hand. “My name is Tobirama and I suppose I should be honored to have you along.”

“You should be, yes.” Madara sniffed and turned to storm off, presumably towards his private rooms within the temple so he could pack for their journey. He probably hoped to have some privacy but Tobirama had a feeling this was the sort of man you never wanted to let out of your sight for any extended periods of time.

A grin touched his face as he followed. Whatever awaited them on their journey, at least now he would have a bit of entertainment along the way.


	15. Balter - Shisui/Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balter - _to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment_

The snap of grease in a hot pan woke him slowly. Shisui lifted his head with a groggy sigh to discover that he must have fallen asleep on the kitchen table after sitting there to remove his shoes, not trusting himself to remain upright if he tried to take them off standing in the genkan. The kitchen was right there, he had rationalized, and the chairs were much comfier than sitting on the floor. From the still-soggy feeling of his left foot he must have only managed to get one of them off before passing out.

Rubbing at his sandy eyes and prodding at the remaining sandal with his opposite foot, Shisui let his jaw stretch open in a deep yawn before blinking at his surroundings to figure out why he could smell bacon.

Sakura looked back at him with an understanding smile. Pink hair gathered carelessly at the top of her head and oversized sleep shirt hanging loose off of one shoulder, she was the prettiest thing he had seen in two long months. Even the worn and half melted spatula she wielded in one hand was a welcome sight after being away from home for so long.

“What time did you get in?” she asked. “I found you drooling on the table when I got up and I didn’t have the heart to move you.”

“Not a damn clue. Definitely sometime after midnight but that dive bar down on the corner was still open so probably before two o’clock.” Shisui rolled his head to one side and then the other, wincing when it cracked both times.

“Do you want some of this? I can make more eggs too.” Sakura waved her spatula at the pan sizzling away beside her and Shisui nodded.

“That would be incredible.”

On her way to the fridge she made sure to reach out and smooth one hand across the back of his shoulders in silent welcome. Just that one simple touch had the tension he hadn’t even realized was there flowing out of his body like a river breaking through a dam. By the time she returned to the stove he was melting back down on to the table as though there weren’t a single bone left in any of his limbs. By the gods he was glad they had no children yet. He wasn’t sure he would have the energy to help with a child in this state.

“Now that you’re awake you don’t mind if I turn the radio on, do you?” Sakura turned hopeful puppy eyes on him and he grunted with a smile.

“Go on then.”

He knew only too well how distracted she could get when cooking. Music entertained her without taking her concentration away from the food and Shisui was very much looking forward to any food not cooked over a campfire; unburnt would certainly be a bonus to that. His own cooking wasn’t all that bad but for the last two months everything he ate had been seasoned with campfire smoke and stray embers, sometimes garnished with a fallen leaf or two. Bacon and eggs wasn’t much but at that moment it sounded like a feast for a king.

Tired beyond belief despite passing out for the few hours he had managed here at the table, Shisui kept his eyes closed through at least one full song until the sound of arrhythmic shuffling caught his attention and he cracked one of them open again to see what was going on. Then he was grinning and opening the other to watch Sakura’s hips swaying back and forth.

She would never win any awards for her dancing, that was for sure, but it was more than enough to hold his attention. When a lyric she happened to know came up he could hear her mumbling it quietly as she popped her elbows out for a strange little dance that made her look somewhat like a chicken.

Unable to help himself, Shisui began to snicker.

“People who laugh at me for dancing in my own kitchen do not get breakfast,” Sakura warned him.

“I could always make my own,” he countered. She turned to lift one pretty little eyebrow.

“How do you plan to do that when you can barely lift your own head? Mhm, that’s what I thought. Just sit there and stay quiet. No laughing!” After waiting for Shisui to nod very seriously Sakura made sure she was looking him dead in the eye before, without breaking expression, doing a rather lopsided little cha cha right there by the stove.

Shisui nearly bit through his tongue trying not to laugh. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” he asked.

“I know darling.” With a gentle pat on the shoulder Sakura slid a plate of eggs in front of him. “I know. Welcome home.”


	16. Verklempt - Izuna/Itama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verklempt - _completely and utterly overcome with emotion ___

Something in him screamed for it all to stop but it was so hard to hear when his mind was filled with static, when his eyes saw the world around him tainted red with fury – or maybe that was just the blood. Izuna ground his teeth together and snarled like an animal as he spun his body to avoid the blade aiming for his heart, taking immense please in slamming his hand down to snap his opponent’s forearm. The sharp crack of shattered bone was a balm to his raging soul.

“You’re going to regret the day you were born,” he told the other man in a low voice.

A whimper would have been appropriate right then because honestly he meant that but instead his opponent sneered at him and that was certainly the wrong move to make. Izuna took great pleasure in smashing the idiot forward against the closest tree and listening to yet another bone snap, this time in his face.

“Tell me where he is and I stop,” he said. “It’s simple enough, even for someone with as little brains as you so clearly have left.”

“Go to hell.” The man spat blood at his feet and Izuna slammed him face first in to the tree a second time just to hear him yowl. Interrogation had never been his thing, he’d never really had the patience for it, but this was one occasion where he was willing to make an exception.

“I don’t think you understand the position you’re in. You will tell me where he is or I will remove your teeth one by one. And then your fingernails. Maybe when I’m done with your toenails I’ll feed every one of them back to you with a hot iron.” Torture, on the other hand, that was something he’d helped with a time or too. Not something he took a particular joy in but this was a special case.

Finally the man in his clutches seemed to grasp his own situation and swallowed around the blood trickling down his throat. “So I-I tell you where he is and you’ll let me go, right?”

“Why don’t we see what happens,” Izuna purred.

“It wasn’t my idea! Tetsuo said if we captured someone from one of the main families then the rest of them would pay handsomely to get them back and I need the money! My kid’s sick and I can’t afford to take her to the capital for a healer or get medicine or anything! We didn’t mean to hurt him–”

Any sympathy that might have been gathering was blown away in another explosion of rage. “If you hurt a fucking _hair_ on his _head_ then I will have yours!”

Extracting the information he wanted took no more than activating his Sharingan, although he did take the time to make it a painful experience for the man who thought kidnapping a high profile resident of Konohagakure was a great way to make some quick cash. What a stupid idea. Out of all the people they could have possibly chosen to kidnap they had definitely picked the wrong one.

Of course, _any_ high profile member from either the Senju or the Uchiha would have been the wrong choice.

Figuring that allowing him to live was as much mercy as could be expected of him, Izuna left the pathetic sack of idiocy broken and bleeding on the forest floor when he turned and bolted towards the hills to the east. With every step he urged his body faster and faster, wishing more than ever that he could match his old rival’s infamous speed, and by the time he found traces of the targets he was looking for his legs were burning from the effort.

As soon as he stepped in to the clearing that burning faded in to the back of his mind in favor of a different type of flames. The flames of anger. A burning hatred for the men and women staring back at him as though they didn’t understand the doom they were facing.

“You hurt him.” His voice was a low snarl, barely a whisper, but from the way they all shivered with fear it was clear they had heard him. “You won’t live to regret that.”

“Tad dramatic,” a weak voice told him from several feet away.

“I thought you said you enjoyed my dramatics,” Izuna replied, not taking his eyes off of the scum circling around him even as his heart soared in his chest. Just hearing that voice was everything. It was the sun after rainfall, the break in the clouds, water after days in the desert.

“Could you hurry things along maybe? I’d like to enjoy your dramatics at home.”

With a feral grin, Izuna nodded once. “Anything for you, love.”

Itama nodded and sank back in to the pile of shackles and seals keeping him tethered. What it must have taken to get him in there was a mystery Izuna couldn’t wait to hear about but for now he had other things to do. The moment he had his lover back in his arms he knew the rest of the world would cease to exist and he had some rather important things to take care of first, things like peeling fingernails and exacting revenge against the people that had hurt his most precious person.

“Now,” he purred. “If you could all die quickly and very painfully that would be a great help.”

The men and women facing him looked much more worried than before, he noted. Which was good. They should be worried. If they were going to take what was his then they should have been prepared to deal with his anger.


	17. Cruore - Itachi/Shisui

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cruore - _literally “flowing blood”_

“You’re hurt.”

Itachi looked down to see that his friend was right. He had indeed been injured without noticing. With a grunt he shrugged and cast about with his senses to make sure there were no others lying in wait to ambush them again the moment they let their guard down. Only when he was sure they were alone did he let out a sigh and look down again to inspect the wound a little closer, poking the bloodied material of his shirt from side to side trying to find the tear.

“Oh stop it. Let me.” Shisui rolled his eyes to hide the worry in them and shoved Itachi towards the closest place available to sit down, a large rock with a cheerful little puddle of innards next to it.

“Lovely,” Itachi drawled.

“Hush. If you weren’t so careless you wouldn’t have to sit on the rock of shame.”

Now pursing his lips to keep any snarky comments at bay, Itachi subsided with as much grace as he could muster. He remained quiet as his mission partner helped him out of the too-thin ANBU chest plate restricting his movements. Maybe if they all continued to get injured as often as they did the Sandaime might actually open his eyes and commission the new models their captains had been requesting for months.

“Ow.” The word was stated calmly with a level tone. That he felt the need to express any sort of pain had Shisui immediately tense, however.

“Crap. Must be worse than I thought. Hold still, alright?” Even as he spoke Shisui was gently peeling away the shirt rapidly soaking up his blood to get a better look at the wound. When he saw it finally he hissed. “Yeah, definitely worse than I thought. Must have been that bitch with the yellow hair that got you; no one else was wielding any serrated blades.”

Itachi hummed noncommittally. It didn’t matter much who had injured him. All he cared about was getting back in to fighting condition, although he was smart enough not to say that. His friend always took issue with how little regard he showed for himself.

“You’ve been taking a lot of stupid chances lately,” Shisui said. “You, uh, should really stop that.”

“Noted.”

“Don’t do that. Look! Look at this! You think I like to see this?” When Itachi glanced down Shisui was gesturing at the blood still trickling steadily out of the wound he was trying to clean.

Confused, he muttered, “It’s only a simply cut, Shisui. I don’t understand the problem.”

“Of course you don’t. You don’t _get_ it. How would you like it if…I don’t know…Sasuke or someone _you_ care about got injured right in front of you? How would that make you feel? Yeah! That face! See, that’s exactly how I feel right now.” Shisui harrumphed as though his entire point had been made and then went back to what he’d been doing.

Itachi felt part of that point had gone unspoken, however. “May I just say that I find it interesting how you think using an imaginary scenario with my little brother will have more of an impact than simply pointing out that this is bothering you personally?”

“Well yeah. You love that little brat.” Shisui kept his head ducked as he reached for the bandages and tape. That was a bad sign.

“But I also care about you,” he felt compelled to point out despite the fact that it was obvious. Or should have been. He may not have been as clear with his feelings as he’d thought, apparently, as Shisui only ducked his head a little lower and gave that overly casual shrug that usually meant he was trying not to be too obvious about his own feelings.

“Not as much as you care about Sausage.”

“Don’t call him that, please.”

Both of them were quiet as the bandages were taped on and Shisui helped pull his shirt back in to place afterwards, muttering something about not replacing his armor unless absolutely necessary so the wound could breathe. Itachi sat calmly as the bloody rags used to clean his side had all been gathered and reduced to ash with a very controlled stream of fire. Then he tilted his head and waited until the weight of his gaze finally brought Shisui’s eyes back up to meet his.

“You think your feelings are not important to me,” he noted quietly. Something in his friend’s eyes was sad, a deeply rooted sadness that he realized, with no small amount of surprise, he understood.

“I didn’t say that.” Shisui waved him off casually but Itachi caught his hand and held it.

“Not exactly but you do think you’re not as important to me as I am to you. Is that correct?” He waited but Shisui only looked away after a half-hearted attempt to retrieve his hand. “That isn’t true. I care for you a great deal – and I think we care for each other the same way.”

When Shisui peeked back up at him Itachi told himself that shinobi should be brave. A shinobi should take risks. It was certainly one of the biggest risks he had ever taken leaning forward and softly pressing their lips together. Luckily it also got him one of the biggest rewards he could ever remember receiving. Shisui’s moan was sweet and his fingers gentle as they reached up to hesitantly slide around the back of Itachi’s neck.

They kissed for what felt like ages, neither wanting to be the first to pull away, but eventually they had to separate. Shisui tugged at the hands still connected between them.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting this.”

“You underestimate your own importance to me,” Itachi scolded him gently.

Shisui chuckled. “Looks like it. Come on, let’s find a place to set up for the night and then you can tell me more about how important I am.”

Were it not for the embarrassed flush spreading across his cheeks Itachi would have been more than happy to do just that. As it was, he was pretty sure the rest of the evening was going to be just as painful as it was pleasant.


	18. Temerate - Kakashi/Hana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temerate - _to break a bond or promise_

She heard him as soon as he slid the window open, of course, but there was little point in mentioning that when he should have known she would hear him the moment he so much as approached the window. Enhanced senses were so handy at times like this. It was, therefore, entirely her pleasure to watch the surprise on his face when he reached the center of the room only to freeze in place when she flipped on the light switch.

“Now what could you be looking for?” she drawled, barely making an effort to pretend she didn’t know.

“Agent Inuzuka.” His voice was an amusing mixture of pleased and consternated. “I really should have known I would find you here.”

“Yes, you really should have. For one of the best agents you rebels have you can be incredibly clumsy, can’t you? You just don’t change, Hatake.” Hana lifted one leg to cross it over the other and bounce her foot casually as though she had all the time in the world.

Kakashi watched her foot for a moment before lifting one eyebrow. “So you remember me then?”

Such a ridiculous statement startled her in to a laugh.

“Remember you? Why Hatake, they upgraded my program, they didn’t erase my memories. Of course I remember you – I just don’t care.” And wasn’t that just the best part of being chosen for this program? Her every sense heightened, her body now capable of things that regular humans could only dreams of, and on top of it all she was not longer afflicted with such messy things as _attachments_.

Sometimes she thought back to the days when she had just been a regular agent, when every day had been a struggle against the disgusting feelings that every human had to deal with. Why had she fought against this program? It was hard to figure out. The memories were there and yet she just couldn’t understand them, couldn’t decipher the reason she had protested so strongly when her captors announced that she was to be upgraded. It was such an honor and yet at the time she remembered panicking as thought it would be a loss of some kind.

“I haven’t forgotten you,” Kakashi told her in a soft voice. “I haven’t forgotten us, I swear.”

“Oh, is that supposed to mean something to me? What we once were to each other is ancient history. I’m above that now.”

“We said forever,” he bulled forward as though she hadn’t said a thing. Hana scowled.

“The more you go on about the past the more I get bored.”

“And I _meant_ forever. You didn’t mean to break your promise, love, I know that. I won’t stop looking for a way to fix this, not until the day I have you back.”

Hana tightened one hand in to a fist, annoyed yet unable to truly feel anger in all its raging heat. “What part of this situation are you not understanding? I have been upgraded, you pathetic lessor being, I can’t feel the way you want me to feel anymore. I remember loving you but I never will again. That’s over.”

“It’s not over until I put things right,” Kakashi insisted.

With a sigh Hana picked herself up out of the chair she had perched herself on to wait and stood up to take a fighting stance. She smirked when the man across from her shrank away, clearly hesitant to come against her. He was going to have to get over that. There was a time when she would have understood his reluctance but now she saw it as nothing more than stupidity, refusing to fight an enemy.

“Everything is as it should be,” she told him bluntly. “I am the best version of myself I can possibly be – and I can smell your fear. Come on, Hatake. We both know you can throw a punch. You always beat me before but I’m stronger now; let’s see if you can stand up to me in _this_ body.”

“Your body isn’t what worries me. It’s your mind.”

“My mind is my own,” Hana snapped. “And it’s perfect.”

Kakashi shifted his weight and Hana prepared herself. He was known for his speed, having trained under the infamous Namikaze Minato, and for being a sneaky bastard who somehow weaseled his way out of all sorts of dire situations. With every intention of stopping that from happening, Hana quickened her heartbeat to up the flow of adrenaline and sharpen her senses even further. She could do this. A pitiful base human like him was nothing against her perfectly manufactured form.

Or so she thought. His first move was a feint and she saw through it easily enough, yet for all the improvements made to her body she still wasn’t fast enough to stop him as Kakashi flashed forward right up in to her face. She froze with shock, unable to compute, when he chose not to attack but instead pressed a very gentle kiss to her lips.

“I will find a way to fix this. We said forever, love. I won’t give up on you.”

Hana blinked again and he was gone, his scent fading from the room. Something in the back of her consciousness screamed, loud and long, urging her to feel things that sent her mind skittering away as though just thinking about them was not allowed. It took a few precious seconds to shake away the distraction and by the time she came back to herself Hana was irritated to note how much distance her target had gained on her.

Lifting one hand to the intercom in her ear, she pressed to activate her voice channel.

“Intruder in the air vents heading west. Leave this one to me.”

Hatake Kakashi was an enemy of the Organization, had been since she first awakened in her new state, but this wasn’t a job for any old random grunt to take care of. Now it was personal. As she leapt up to tear her way in to the ceiling vents as well Hana very carefully did not think about the fact that, with her programming, nothing should be personal.


	19. Marcid - Kisame/Obito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcid - _incredibly exhausted_

So many of their number had fallen. Kisame let his eyes trace the red clouds dancing across Tobi’s form, swaying gently in the breeze as though to hypnotize him. He couldn’t deny that there were times he had felt hypnotized by the fluctuations in Tobi’s personality, the wild differences between the bouncing persona he showed the other Akatsuki members and the calm dark self he preferred when the two of them were alone. Tobi had never said why he trusted Kisame, of all people, with his true self. Kisame had never asked.

“I’m tired,” Tobi said. His voice was quiet, nearly carried away on the wind before it could reach his companion’s ears. “Who knew that chasing reality would be so exhausting?”

Kisame opted not to answer. He was too curious to see if the other man would continue on his own and explain what he meant by that. Something told him it had something to do with the ultimate goal of their organization, all the things a little peon like him knew better than to ask about.

“When I was younger it all seemed so simple. Keep working, do what I have to, build the perfect world. I knew the road would be long and yet…no one ever mentioned how it all gets heavier with every year that passes. And for what.” The back of his head dipped and his mask tilted down to look at his gloved hands. “Do I even miss her anymore?”

“Miss who?” the question slipped out so easily Kisame didn’t realize he had spoken it aloud until Tobi turned around to stare at him with that blank, featureless eyehole. The silence stretched.

“Her name was Rin,” Tobi said eventually.

That was all he said and yet there was such a weight in the way he spoke her name that Kisame had no more questions to ask. He understood. People liked to say that misery loves company but there was no happiness in knowing that such a sharp loss had set Tobi on the path to where they both ended up, broken and bent, turning to the darkest corners they could find after the light places they relied on had betrayed them. Whoever this Rin girl had been she was important and that was all he needed to know.

He could have gone over to comfort his companion but in all the times he had been allowed this private glimpse in to the man behind the mask Kisame had learned that Tobi was not the sort to accept comfort when offered. So instead he waited, willing and ready should it be requested.

“I’m just so tired.” Turning away from the cliff’s edge, Tobi made his way across the space between them with slow footsteps.

“Maybe you should rest.” Whether he was suggesting a nap or a break from their world domination plans, Kisame wasn’t sure. Maybe both. Honestly Tobi could probably use both. He watched the other man come to a stop when they were a mere foot apart.

Then he tried very hard not to react at all when Tobi reached up and grasped the bottom of his mask between finger and thumb. Eyes wide despite his best intentions, Kisame all but devoured every inch of twisted skin revealed to him, traced the lines of scars that must be decades old and the dark circles where pouty lips had once been sewn up by a clumsy hand. One dark eye stared back at him from under shaggy black hair while the other socket stayed closed, the eyelid loose in a way that a shinobi like him could only be too familiar with.

Suddenly the single eye hole made a lot more sense – although he had already surmised as much in the many times he’d speculated over the mask and other mysteries surrounding the man before him.

Incredibly, he was allowed nearly an entire minute to stare uninterrupted and take in all the features that had been hidden from him until now. Then with slow movements Tobi knelt on the ground at Kisame’s feet and bent his neck, head hanging low in a way that spoke of complete exhaustion, body and soul.

“My name is Uchiha Obito. I am…tired. May I rest here for a while?” He asked.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Kisame held his breath as Tobi – Obito – settled further down, almost jumping when the man’s head laid down on one knee despite the fact that he was watching it happen.

When it became clear his companion would speak no further but indeed had every intention of resting in his lap for some time Kisame very carefully shifted forward until he could free Samehada from behind his shoulders and set the living blade aside. Then he leaned back to rest his weight on both palms. His head tilted back and his eyes fell closed to enjoy what little warmth could be found on such a cloudy day.

Questions could come later if they were allowed. For now, well, he wouldn’t mind a bit of rest himself.


	20. Sweven - Madara/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweven - _a dream_

“You’re sure about this?”

“I take offense that you are asking me this now. You know how much I abhor when you insist on being cliché. _Yes_ , I am sure.” Tobirama rolled his eyes. Honestly, they had been talking about this for several days and he had been the one to suggest actually going through with it. Of course he was sure.

Madara scowled at him for his impertinence. “There’s no need to be so rude when I’m just trying to make sure you’re comfortable and safe. It’s…this is…big.”

When he put it like that Tobirama had to admit he had a point. This was indeed a fairly big step, an incredible show of trust that he was offering. Still, waiting until the very last moment to ask again if he truly wanted to do this was just so unforgivably predictable that he couldn’t help but find it a little annoying even if he could fully understand why his partner might be a little worried about his commitment to this.

“Look at me.” Waiting until Madara did as he asked, Tobirama looked him in the eye with a calm expression. “I trust you. Now, I believe I was promised purple skies and all sorts of fantastic things so if we could get on with it, please?”

“It’s not the color of the skies that – never mind. Whatever. Just stay still.”

“Yes, dear.”

“And shut up.”

Tobirama cracked a smile but let it fall away when Madara scowled at him again. Keeping their gazes locked, he forced his body in to stillness and used an old meditation trick to empty his thoughts, intentionally relaxing as the eyes before him changed rapidly from black to red and began to spin. As the tomoe circled each other they almost seemed to bleed in to one another until finally different pattern emerged; the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Despite his efforts he was unable to note the exact moment when reality faded away and the genjutsu began. He’d seen a few genjutsu in his time, of course, though he was good enough to escape most of them almost as soon as they took hold. This one was different. This time there was no sensation of being trapped, nothing keeping him here but his own willingness to participate, no sensation of having his own mind stifled by the will of another. Instead all he felt was the comforting presence of Madara’s chakra gently guiding his attention towards the illusion his lover had created for him.

He had to admit it was beautiful. Standing atop an impossibly high cliff with nothing but open ocean spread out before him as far as the eye could see, sunlight bright on the water and the taste of salt thick in every breath. Probably as a nod to pettiness, the sky was indeed a light purple color, although that could be rationalized by an oncoming sunset.

Something in the back of his mind urged him to turn and when he did they were there. Beloved faces, precious loved ones lost to him years before, waiting to greet him with the same warm smiles he’d thought he had forgotten with time. And behind them stood new faces as well, all of them bearing the distinctive look of the Uchiha clan. A hand touched his shoulder and Tobirama looked over calmly to find Madara there at his side looking relaxed as though he’d never known a day of stress in his life.

When his lover beckoned Tobirama followed, stepping back over the cliff’s edge with no hesitation, trusting where Madara wanted to lead him. Instead of falling he found himself floating on the softest cloud, drifting through the sky with the knowledge that weight and gravity had no meaning for him, Madara’s hand in his.

“This is a dream,” he murmured.

“A good one, though.” Madara’s fingers squeezed his. “I dream about this place sometimes.”

“You dream about this ocean? I’ve had more of an influence on you than I thought.”

His smirk was met with another squeeze, this time a little tighter but still not enough to disturb the atmosphere. “No, the ocean was for you. It’s them I dream about, a world where they all survived and everything was perfect.”

Tobirama rolled his head to one side and looked down at all of their brothers spread out in a line along the edge of the cliff, smiling at them with such understanding in their eyes that he had to look away again, reluctance heavy in his heart as he reached down inside himself and slowly pushed out with his own chakra. He could feel Madara’s genjutsu push back against him instinctively before withdrawing as he so obviously wished.

Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of their bedroom ceiling and Madara still above him, Mangekyo Sharingan spinning lazily until it separated in to three tomoe and then faded to black. The two of them stared at each other wordlessly, neither wanting to be the first to speak, the moment broken only when Tobirama gave in first.

“Thank you,” he said with quiet words. “It was a very nice dream.”

“Every time I close my eyes I build the perfect world,” Madara whispered back.

“No. You build a perfect _dream_. This, what we have here, this is the world as it is meant to be. It’s not perfect but it’s what we have. And if I could have them all back I would take that chance in an instant but I am happy with the things I have. I’m happy with you here.”

Madara took in a long shuddering breath and nodded slowly. Then he lowered himself down, inch by inch, until their bodies were pressed together and his face was tucked away in the pale neck underneath him. With a smile Tobirama wrapped both arms around him and held tightly. He didn’t need words to know that Madara agreed with him.

What they had would never be all they wanted but it was enough.


	21. Basorexia - Hashirama/Mito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basorexia - _the overwhelming desire to kiss_

As the princess of her homeland Mito was intimately aware of the delicate negotiations that had gone in to securing her a powerful husband from a powerful clan, benefitting her people with a powerful alliance. She had a choice in things of course and her father respected her enough not to sugarcoat any descriptions of her possible suitor. It was the man’s brother that had come to negotiate on his behalf but Tobirama had assured her that he was nothing like his sibling and he too had not spared her the truth.

Yet nothing could have prepared her for the reality.

Hashirama was a mountain of a man with the gentleness of a small river mouse. Before they so much as interacted for the first time Mito was able to tell that he was a good man and that she had made a good decision in agreeing to this arrangement. A small crowd had gathered to witness her arrival, curious clan members eager to meet their new matriarch, and among them several children pulled against the restraining arms of their parents in their efforts to get a better look. One such child broke free only to crash headlong in to his clan leader’s legs.

“Oh hello Riku-kun. Up you come, best seat in the house!” Hashirama beamed at the child’s delighted squeal, swinging the boy up to sit on his shoulders. At his side Tobirama twitched.

“Brother, please, have a little dignity.”

“Dignity isn’t any fun! Riku-kun just wanted to have a better look, didn’t you?” With a shrug of his shoulder he set the child bouncing. “Besides, shouldn’t she know the real me instead of the stodgy public me that you always try for?”

Mito bit her tongue to keep the laughter at bay, amused by the stubborn irritation on Tobirama’s face. She’d gotten to know him a little bit during his stay in Uzushio and her impression had always been that of a man who liked rules and guidelines, living his life in little boxes. As much as she enjoyed a bit of order herself it was heartwarming to see her new husband’s approach to life.

Finally her delegation came close enough for them all to greet each other and Tobirama all but snatched the child off of his brother’s shoulders for the bride and groom to have what he deemed an appropriate first meeting. The child was ushered back towards his parents but Mito found that he was already gone from her mind, attention taken up entirely by the handsome face before her. Hashirama’s smile was the most honest she had ever seen and his eyes the simplest, most beautiful brown.

“You must be my wife,” were his first words. Mito hid a smile behind a decorative fan.

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Senju-dono.” Lowering her eyelids, she sent him a wicked look that visibly weakened his knees for a moment. Then without warning he tossed his head back with a boom of laughter.

“Oh, we’re going to be wonderful together!” he crowed. “Look! Tobi, look! Isn’t she incredible? One look and she’s got me wrapped all the way around that tiny little finger. I think I like you.” He smiled so brightly she was almost tempted to check whether he really had blotted out the sun.

“Most people do,” she told him confidently. One of her aids could be heard groaning ever so quietly but they were easy to ignore, boorish and soon to be out of her life anyway when they returned to Uzushio.

After spending time with Tobirama, a man who followed every protocol to the letter, it was refreshing to be invited in to the compound by Hashirama, who seemed determined to throw every single rule and protocol out the window in favor of being friendly and making his new bride as comfortable as possible. He really was a sweetheart just as he’d been described. Several people had tried to warn her of his over the top energy levels but they had failed to properly describe how charming he was. Instead of annoying as she half expected she found him more intriguing.

Barely a few steps passed the front gate Hashirama made some sort of comment about her hair, his comment bordering the edge of raunchy although it was hard to tell whether he meant it that way or even realized the double entendre, and for his indiscretion received a hefty swat up the side of his head. Tobirama clearly spent a great deal of time reining his sibling in and guiding him along certain paths. Rather than get angry over such disrespect Hashirama turned to the other man and stuck out his lower lip.

He was pouting. A grown man and he was pouting at his brother like the biggest most adorable child she had ever seen. When Mito felt the urge rise up she didn’t bother to deny it, overwhelmed with a sudden need.

“You kissed me,” Hashirama breathed.

“I think you’re right.” Mito lifted her fan once to hide the satisfaction in his face and blithely shut out the protests of her entourage for such forward behavior. “We’re going to be wonderful together.”

Five minutes and she was already in love.


	22. Whelve - Tobirama/Kagami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whelve - _to bury something deep, to hide_

Kagami had every intention of staying at the party until dawn. It wasn’t every day you got to celebrate the unexpected yet peaceful retirement of a man who’d never wanted the job anyway. After his brother’s death Tobirama had only accepted the mantle of Hokage because it was the Shodaime’s dying wish that he watch over the hard-won dream of a lifetime but it only took a handful of years for Tobirama to find someone better and more willing. Mito was going to make a wonderful Hokage, they all agreed. And with her Uzumaki bloodline she was likely to outlive them all anyway.

Unfortunately for Kagami’s plans of being smashed before the sun had set he was roped in to walking a drunken Hiruzen home instead. Evidently his friend had been pre-drinking since noon and barely lasted all the way through the admittedly unsteady speech Tobirama gave after consuming more sake than any of them had ever seen him throw back in one sitting. Among the many mysteries of the second Senju it appeared he was a man of refined tastes when it came to liquor and had his brother’s constitution for it. Which was to say that he was swaying after half a bottle. Two bottles in and Kagami cursed every god he knew for making him the responsible, caring type. He could have been back at the party watching Tobirama loosen up _for once_ but instead he was frog-marching Hiruzen up the front steps of his home in the Sarutobi compound.

“Sleep it off,” he ground out. “And drink some water, you slosh. I hope Biwako gets a hold of you tomorrow.”

“No, don’t tell Biwako I was drinking!”

“I don’t have to, she was sitting right next to you. Dumb ass.” Kagami rolled his eyes at the idiot and left.

He headed back to the party with every intention of using his Sharingan to record the once in a lifetime sight of Senju Tobirama drunkenly swaying through his own party – only to be told that Tobirama left shortly after he did and no one knew where he’d gone. Just his luck.

Not nearly as drunk as he wanted to be, denied the thing he’d been looking forward to since the day the Nidaime announced his retirement, Kagami declined the offering for him to rejoin the party and turned for home. What was the point of celebrating if the man they were celebrating for had left? At least this way he would get some sleep so he wouldn’t be so hungover for his shift running patrols the next afternoon. There was that.

The way home was quiet and lonely. Last time he’d gone out with friends they had all stumbled back to the closest apartment and crashed in the living room together. He smiled as he remembered that the closest friendly living room had actually been Tobirama’s and while he had obviously not been pleased to have them disturbing his rest in the wee hours of the morning he had caved fairly quickly when Kagami turned on the puppy eyes. It was almost as though he grew more and more weak to them as the years went by.

Just as he approached his front door and reached for the keys in his pocket Kagami realized that he was not alone. There was enough time to spin around, a split second to identify the other person, and then suddenly he was lurching under Tobirama’s weight as the man tripped over his own feet and pitched forward.

“Right, look, I’ve got something to tell you,” he announced in slurred syllables.

“That’s a little off from your usual greetings but alright. Hello to you too. You know people are looking for you?” Kagami bit his lip as soon as he got Tobirama back on two feet. Plastered was a good look on him. It left his eyes half lidded and a painted a very fetched splash of red across his cheeks.

“I am not the Hokage anymore,” Tobirama declared.

Wincing at his volume, Kagami nodded slowly. “Fancy that. We should have a party for you.”

“And _as such_ I am no longer your superior.”

“How about you come and don’t be my superior inside where I can tuck you in to a nice soft couch?” Door stealthily unlocked while the other man was distracted, Kagami gently tugged him inside. He only made it inside the genkan, just far enough to kick the door shut behind them, when Tobirama spun and pressed him back against the wall.

“But I’m not above you anymore,” he said as though protesting something.

“Not technically, I guess.”

Tobirama groaned and dropped his head on to Kagami’s shoulder. “No, you don’t _get it_! I’m not…I don’t outrank you! I’ve outranked you for years!”

“Okay…” Maybe if he just let the man ramble he would get to the point.

“ _Years_ of pretending it’s not there and pushing it down and now I don’t outrank you and you _leave_! That’s…you weren’t supposed to leave.” He sounded genuinely offended.

Kagami, however, was only more confused. “Leave where?”

“The party!”

“I was taking Hiruzen home; the idiot could barely stand on his own two feet. Much like you. How exactly did you get here by yourself?”

“As if I’d let a bit of sake stop me from getting to you.”

Tobirama’s words were earnest and Kagami felt something flutter in his chest. Finally the man pulled himself away from the neck he was all but drooling on and used two handfuls of Kagami’s shirt to keep himself upright. Knowing how stiff and proper he always was, it was a good guess that tonight could actually be the first time he’d gotten properly drunk.

Hilarious though it might be to witness, it was also kind of annoying. After dealing with one drunkard and being denied his public entertainment Kagami really just wanted to crawl in to bed and sleep. He’d thought drunken Tobirama would be fun blackmail but instead he was just confusing and toeing some lines that Kagami didn’t appreciate. Watching someone dance and make a fool of themselves was one thing. Having the man in front of him say things that played with his heart was quite another. He knew Tobirama, however, and the man was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something. The quickest way to get this over with would be to just play along.

“Why did you need to get to me?” he asked bluntly.

“Because I’m not the Hokage anymore.”

“Yes, I got that part, but why did you need to come tell me specifically? Everyone knows that.”

Tobirama blinked at him once, twice, then turned his lips up in a sheepish smile so gentle it didn’t even look like his own face anymore. “I am very, very drunk,” he announced.

“Uh-huh.” Kagami gave him the flattest look in his repertoire. “I guessed that.”

“Don’t other people use their drunkenness to give them courage? I thought that was just the thing to do. Once I realized the state I was in I went looking for you but you were gone. How am I supposed to make drunken confessions if you leave?” Again he looked offended.

And again Kagami was nothing but confused.

“Confessions?” he asked carefully. Tobirama’s smile turned sloppy as he leaned closer.

“Yes, about me being in love you.”

“Oh. Well that…that’s not what I was expecting,” Kagami admitted faintly.

What he wanted, yes. He’d been dreaming of hearing those words for such a long time it was hard to remember what it was like to look at Tobirama and not feel a yearning deep in his chest. To ever consider that the man had been hiding the same yearning, had only held himself back because of the gap between their ranks, it seemed almost too good to be true.

But there was Tobirama with his eyebrows up expectantly as though waiting to hear someone’s opinion on his latest budget proposal. What a ridiculous man. At some point Kagami should probably question his own sanity for choosing this particular dumb ass to fall in love with.

“I think,” he began softly, “that I would like to hear that much better if you were sober.”

“Oh. Really? Then I suppose I should sober up…”

“Mhm. Why don’t you lay down on the guest bed and sleep it off? I’ll bring you some water and we can talk in the morning, okay?”

“Excellent idea. The room has begun to spin and I would appreciate if it stopped that.”

Kagami bit his lip and turned to help Tobirama down the hall. Hopefully when the morning came he woke up first so he could prevent any escape attempts before that conversation happened. The man he loved could be a slippery one whenever emotions were involved and Kagami very much intended to pin him down for this particular talk that they had both apparently been waiting a long time for.

And then he very much intended to spend the next decade or so teasing him about being so socially awkward that he deliberately used his drunken state to confess. At least they would have a fun story to tell the grandkids.


	23. Meriggiare - Shikamaru/Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meriggiare - _to rest at noon, more likely in a shady spot outdoors_

He found her, after over an hour of searching, sprawled out in the shade of a tree at the edge of their backyard. Which was suspicious since he could swear that he’d checked back here twice already, although he had to give her points for positioning herself at just the right angle that she wouldn’t be visible from the house.

When he laid down at her side the scent of iron was heavy in the air. The grass under his left arm felt sticky and wet but he didn’t let it bother him. It was hardly the first time he’d had blood on him and it would hardly be the last. After a cursory glance to see that there were no visible wounds on his wife he settled back to tuck his right arm under his head and stared up at the leaves dancing above them. Sure was a beautiful day.

Neither of them said anything for a very long time. Shikamaru traced patterns in the shadows with his eyes and briefly considered a light nap.

“Who am I?” Her soft voice broke through his reverie but Shikamaru kept his eyes facing up.

“Nara Sakura,” he replied easily. “Wife of Shikamaru. Mother of Shikadai and Sarada. Head of the Konoha hospital. Student of the Godaime Hokage Senju Tsunade. Best friend of Uzumaki Naruto. Rival of Yamanaka Ino. Face-beater of the scum we do not name.”

“Where am I?”

Humming a quiet note, he answered simply, “You are home.”

A shuddering breath left her but it was not one of relief. Something in her breathing was broken just as something in her spirit was but it would do neither of them any good for him to panic. Shikamaru kept still and waited patiently.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Her voice was no less soft, not a demand but a plea.

“I have a marriage certificate infused with your chakra. The children will recognize you on sight. Every person in this village can corroborate my story. In a box under our bed I have countless photographs and on the back of many you will find dates and names written in your own hand.” His right shoulder have a tiny shrug. “Not to mention your office in the hospital with wards keyed only to your chakra.”

She fell silent again but this time it last for so long that Shikamaru was indeed able to close his eyes and catch a very small catnap. No sense in staying awake if he didn’t have no. He snapped to attention the moment he felt a shift in her presence, alert for the words he had been waiting for.

“Do I deserve this? Any of it?”

Very slowly, cautiously, Shikamaru inched his left hand across the bloody grass until he could feel the smooth lycra of an ANBU glove and slipped his fingers in to the spaces between hers. After a moment of pause Sakura clung to him like a lifeline, like she might slip off the edges of reality if one of them let go even the slightest. Her strength made his joints creaks but he said nothing.

“Yes. You deserve all of it. For the things you have done, for the hurts you have suffered, for the person you are. You deserve the world.”

“Thank you.”

At last Sakura rolled sideways to curl up against him and Shikamaru rolled on to his own side in time to bury her face in his chest, hands still linked between them while his right arm came around to hold her close.

The children wouldn’t be home for another few hours. He was grateful that the young chūnin on gate duty had known to send word to him as soon as Sakura returned from her mission. It gave him time to help bring her out of the mask that she wore only too well and remind her of who she was, of the life they had built together. Soon, he promised himself, he would talk to Kakashi-sama about retiring her from ANBU for good. Soon he would have that conversation with her as well because going behind her back and keeping secrets would not end well.

But for now he held her and whispered that he loved her as many times as she asked him to. If it was all he could do, if it was all she needed, he was more than willing to spend his afternoon resting here under the shade of his favorite tree.


	24. Ansare - Hashirama/Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ansare - _to hardly breathe, to be out of breath_

Every heave of his chest burned for lack of air but Hashirama ignored it, unable to afford the distraction as he ducked under Madara’s fist and swept out with one leg. He was surprised his old friend had requested they spar without weapons today but after the first hour he realized he was grateful. What better excuse to enjoy the small touches between them than the physical interactions of taijutsu? The fact that it hadn’t even been his idea only made it better. If he tried very hard he could pretend that Madara was hiding the same secret urge to touch as he was.

That would require a lot of pretending though. He knew his partner well and Madara had never been the type for a lot of unnecessary touching. Even on the rare night that sleeping next to each other on missions turned to more intimate activities he still refused any requests to cuddle up afterwards. It made it very hard to tell if they were an actual item or if Madara was just using him for the occasional easy release but he didn’t mind very much.

Any small part of the man before him was a good part. Hashirama had made his peace years ago with the fact that things would probably never be clear between them.

“If you keep getting lost inside your own head”-suddenly Madara’s face was right there only inches away from his own-“you’re going to lose.” With a grunt Hashirama went down, a heavy weight settling on his chest and a hand very carefully caged around his neck. “It’s no fun beating an opponent who isn’t giving it their all. Why must you bore me?”

“Sorry,” Hashirama panted, trying for an apologetic grin. His friend snorted.

“Are you going to do better or am I going to find someone more interesting to spend my time with?”

“What? No! Sorry, I was just thinking and – sorry! You’re right, I should keep my head in the game.” He upped his grin a notch to cover the flicker of hurt that Madara might leave so easily just because he was _boring_.

For a moment he thought he saw a strange sort of hesitation in the man’s eyes, something dangerously close to remorse for his words, but it was gone in an instant and Hashirama told himself firmly that he knew better. As much as he loved the man he was more than aware that Madara was, well, selfish. He cared more for his own desires than for the feelings of those around him. In a strange way that was what made his friendship so rewarding. To know that someone like him would deign to spend his time caring even in his own aloof way for someone like Hashirama, there was no other rush like it.

They returned to their spar and Hashirama did everything he could to keep his mind on task. Despite that he still lost the next fight because Madara faked a grimace of pain that distracted him all too easily but for the third fight he finally pulled himself together and managed to pin his opponent against a tree. Then it took every ounce of will power not to just sink forward and draw Madara in to a gentle hug. Sometimes that was all he wanted, just a moment to be soft, a single instance of proper connection, and the only reason he was able to keep his distance was imagining the sneer his friend would wear as he pushed them apart.

“Hmph. Guess you’re not totally boring,” Madara conceded. Hashirama beamed. High praise indeed from this man.

“Would you like to go again? Ooh! Or you could come over for tea! Pleeeaaase? We could sit in the backyard and you can tell me about how your latest visit with Izuna went! How is he? One of the hospital staff said he caught another infection but I can look in to–”

“Do you _ever_ stop pretending to care?”

Madara’s question locked every muscle in his body and rendered him speechless, left him standing there staring like an idiot while his brain tried to reboot. By the time he was able to think again Madara had shoved him away and was stalking over to where he had discarded his heavy outer robe.

“Pretending? What do you mean?”

“It’s non-stop! No one can be as perfect as you pretend to be.” Madara snatched up his clothing but instead of pulling it on he turned around to imitate Hashirama with a terrible false voice. “Oh look at me! I’m Hashirama! I care about everyone and I pretend that I’m in love with my best friend because I pity him! I’m so perfect and perky! _Ugh_. You know, sometimes you can just let it rest.”

After he’d said his piece he moved to pull on his robe but Hashirama stepped over to place a hand on his arm, giving the man pause more because of his stricken expression than anything else it seemed.

“You know?” he whispered.

“Know what?”

“About my…you know that I’m in love with you? Wait, no, you think I’m _pretending_ to be in love with you!?”

“Of course you are! What the hell would _you_ fall in love with _me_ for?” Madara bared his teeth in that way that Hashirama had come to recognize as his ‘back off, I am experiencing an emotion and I don’t like it’ expression.

Staring at him, Hashirama felt as though he were watching the sun coming over the horizon, the dark places of his own misconceptions illuminated for the first time. As it turned out, they were both dumb. He made a mental note to never ever let Tobirama know he’d been right but for now he had more pressing matters, things that he had purposefully denied himself that it appeared he needn’t have worried about.

With trembling fingers he reached up to caress the side of Madara’s face. Instead of bucking wildly at the first hint of softness, his friend narrowed both eyes suspiciously. Hashirama smiled.

“Come have tea with me,” he pleaded. “Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a nice cup of tea with the man I love, no pretending. I’ll prove it! In any way you like!” He had no idea how he was supposed to prove it but whatever helped Madara believe that he was genuine he was prepared to do.

It felt like a small miracle watching the cogs turn in those dark eyes and being allowed to softly dip his fingers in to all that wild hair he had dreamed about so many times. Madara certainly took his time thinking it all through but it was worth it. In the end he dropped his eyes and looked away, frowning while the tips of his ears turned a delightful shade of red.

“Whatever, I guess tea won’t kill me,” he grumbled. Hashirama beamed as brightly as he could.

“Amazing! Oh I’m so happy! Can I hug you?”

Madara jerked his chin away and folded his arms tighter but he gave a significant lack of negative response and really that was as good as an invitation coming from him. He grunted once when Hashirama threw both arms around him and then stood completely still. It was the first time he hadn’t protested any form of intimacy between them that showed some sign of being emotional.

For Hashirama it was the best possible gift he could have been given. Hope, in some form, that they could both be happy the way he had always dreamed of: together.


	25. Arcuate - Hashirama/Kagami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcuate - _arched; bow-shaped_

“They’re just so pretty. How did I never notice before? I must have been blind, I swear.”

“Anija, stop.”

“But Tobi, how did I not see before? How can _anyone_ miss such perfection?”

Tobirama rubbed the space between his eyebrows with a suffering look. “I am begging you to stop.”

Hashirama subsided at last but settled in his chair to pout instead, the upper half of his body still twisted to look out the window and down at the gaggle of young men standing below. If he wasn’t allowed to say it then he would just have to keep thinking it. Each of the people outside were ranked jōnin in some capacity and had long since found their specialty, had been hanging around his younger brother for so many years it sometimes felt as though they’d been attached to his side since before the village began.

So how, for the love of the gods, had Uchiha Kagami gone under Hashirama’s radar for so long? Obviously when they first met he had been a boy much too young to consider but he was well in to his twenties now and every time he popped in to the Hokage’s office to give a mission report Hashirama heard almost nothing he said. Embarrassing as it was, he found himself distracted watching those pretty bow-sharped lips and all the delectable shapes they made as he formed his vowels.

Never in his life had Hashirama considered the letter ‘O’ to be sexy and yet now every time he watched Kagami’s lips purse together in a perfect circle he started questioning his own sanity.

“I need to bring these files down to the Archives. Can you promise me that you’ll actually get something done while I’m gone or do I need to send Madara in here to watch you?” Tobirama eyed him suspiciously even as he stepped over towards the door.

“Well there’s no need to get mean about it, I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate being pulled away from his wife like that.” Hashirama wrinkled his nose. When she first arrived in the village Mito’s people had intended for her to marry _him_. How she ended up married to his grumpy best friend when all they ever seemed to do was yell at each other and then make out was beyond him.

Still suspicious, Tobirama grunted and took his leave anyway.

Perhaps three full minutes passed in which Hashirama honestly and truly made an effort to do as he’d been asked, paperwork spread out before him and pencil scratching away with all the energy of a man afraid to piss off his younger brother. If he hadn’t been interrupted he liked to think that he might have actually gotten enough done to avoid Tobirama’s patented look of disappointment. What a novelty it would have been, although he would never be able to say he regretted it in any way.  

A quiet rattle was all the warning he got before Kagami suddenly came tumbling in through the window looking out of breath and grinning like a lunatic.

“Can I hide in here?” he asked with a brilliant grin. Hashirama swallowed thickly.

“Any time. I mean, yes! Of course!”

“Excellent, Torifu was about to go for blood. Do you think maybe I shouldn’t have hidden dye in his shampoo?”

Hashirama bit his lip. “I…I love that prank…”

“Right? Classic!”

The two of them beamed at each other across the few short feet between them until Kagami inched away from the window and came around to stand at his Hokage’s side. “What are you working on? I thought I felt sensei in here; thank kami he left because he hates my pranks.”

“Oh he’s just mad because he used to fall for my pranks all the time.”

“No way! You’ve caught _sensei_ with this stuff? Teach me your ways!” Kagami bent down to smile at him as though he’d said he had all the secrets in the world at his fingertips.

Hashirama wanted to reply but instead he felt trapped by the pretty mouth hovering so temptingly right there only a few inches away from his own. It would be so easy to just lean forward and have a little taste. Just once! He was curious, could anyone really blame him? Since the day he finally saw what had always been right there in front of him it was like he couldn’t stop looking. They were so close. One little kiss really couldn’t hurt anything as long as it was just inside his own imagination.

Except it wasn’t just inside his imagination. Hashirama’s eyes blew wide open when he came out of his head and realized he was kissing Kagami without permission. Immediately he threw himself backwards in his chair so violently it rolled a foot or so away.

“I’m so sorry! That was inappropriate! Please forgive me! I was just – you were so close and I was thinking about what it would be like and I – your lips! They’re so pretty! Like a little bow on a pretty, pretty package…” he trailed off and licked his own lips as the thoughts rose up again before slapping his own forehead in despair. He could control himself better than this!

“You were thinking about it too?”

“What!?”

“Uhm…” Kagami chuckled sheepishly. “Wow. I never would have thought you’d look at me like that too. I mean, well, you’re you. And I’m just me.”

Hashirama stared at him for a moment. “You are so much more than ‘ _just’_.”

Throwing caution to the wind he stood from his chair and pulled Kagami in to the fiery kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks now. Every nerve ending in his body lit up like a firework show when he felt Kagami kiss him back with a soft noise of appreciation.

“Oh wow. Yeah. Let’s keep doing that and we can talk about pranks later?”

“Absolutely,” Hashirama breathed, ducking in for a third kiss.

Tobirama was going to kill him when he came back but by all the gods there had never been anything more worth such a good death.


	26. Morituro - Obito/Kakashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morituro - _of someone who is next or destined to die_

Kakashi’s eyes were closed to enjoy the sunlight filtering in through the living room window when Obito’s voice pulled him back from the edge of the catnap he could feel coming on.

“Do you ever think about destiny?”

“No,” he answered honestly. Then he very pointedly rolled himself over to face away without even opening his eyes. Obito tugged at a strand of his hair in irritation until Kakashi reached up with one lazy hand to swat him away, tucking it back under his chin afterwards.

“Hey, don’t ignore me! This is important!”

“Somehow I get the impression that it really isn’t.”

A quiet snarl came from just above his ear before sharp teeth sank in to it and Kakashi yelped. Finally he cracked his eyes open and rolled on to his back again, glaring up at the man whose lap he was using for a pillow. Obito glared back. Whatever was on this idiot’s mind they were apparently going to have to talk about it before he would be allowed to catch any sleep.

“Okay. Destiny. What about it?” He watched with a spark of curiosity as Obito gnawed on his own bottom lip with something like actual worry in his eyes.

“It’s just, I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes I feel like I’m just destined to die. Or maybe that I’m destined to suffer. Now I feel like I’m cheating that destiny and the universe obviously won’t like that so I just keep waiting for something bad to come along again and fuck everything up.”

Kakashi waited until their eyes met again to lift one eyebrow very slowly. “You’re nuts.”

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be supportive?”

“Look.” With a sigh he pulled Obito down for a quick kiss. “If you’re destined to suffer then you already have. You spent an entire lifetime suffering after Rin died and as much as you pretend nothing affects you I know that you suffer now as a prisoner. I mean, yeah, thanks to Naruto you get to stay with me instead of in jail and the sex is great and all but I know you miss having access to your chakra. I know you miss your freedom. Maybe – and call me crazy for suggesting it – but maybe you should just enjoy the few good things you have instead of waiting for more bad shit to come along?”

“Oh, yeah, like it’s just as easy as not thinking about it.” Obito snorted and Kakashi rolled his eyes.

Flicking his technical-prisoner-turned-boyfriend on the forehead, he said, “I’m not saying it’s as easy as just that. Your issues have issues and we both know that. If you feel so strongly that you’re actually talking about it maybe you should just see that therapist I’ve been suggesting?”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Right, first of all, you tried to take over the whole world. I love you but you’re absolutely crazy. Second of all, therapy isn’t just for crazy people. It’s for people who don’t know how emotions are supposed to work or how to process with their shit. Or something like that.” Kakashi shrugged and rolled over the other way to burrow his face against Obito’s belly. “I just think you could use someone to talk to who might be able to help you understand your own cracked head.”

“My head is not cracked.” Obito’s protest was given absently as though he were actually thinking about it and Kakashi chose to take that as a good sign.

His partner fell quiet and after waiting a few minutes to be sure their conversation was over Kakashi let his eyes fall closed with a smile in the hopes that the catnap would come back to him.

“So you don’t think about destiny at all? Ever?”

“Ugh, no! Never!”

“Huh. So you don’t believe that _this_ was meant to happen?”

When Kakashi peeked upwards Obito was waving vaguely between them. “I believe that it happened and that I’m happy about it. Nothing beyond that really matters to me.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at things.”

“Obito, I’m not good at this shit. Emotions aren’t my jam. Now are you going to go see that shrink or not? And more importantly, are you going to let me sleep or not? Because I’m a very tired man.”

His human pillow snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, waking up at noon and making toast for breakfast _must_ have left you exhausted.”

“Precisely. So shush.”

“Right. Don’t think this means I’m going soft or anything. I’m gonna make you talk more later.”

“Sure you are. Or you could talk to a shrink who will actually listen.”

“I hate you,” Obito grumbled.

“Love you too, snookum.” Smiling to himself, Kakashi ignored to offended ranting going on above his head and reached for sleep. A good nap, he had found, could solve nearly all the world’s problems. If his problem was a semi-imprisoned megalomaniac, the best solution he’d been able to come up with had been to nap on top of him so he had nothing to do but sit still and think about what he wanted out of his own future.

Why people refused to recognize his helpful genius even after all this time, Kakashi would never know.


	27. Noceur - Naruto/Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noceur - _one who stays up late_

Before he’d even completely returned to consciousness Naruto was groaning in protest. His eyes might have been closed but he recognized the rosy color on the inside of his eyelids; the lights were on. No matter what time it was that couldn’t be a good sign.

Rolling over on to his stomach, he felt about until he found his girlfriend’s waist and pulled himself bodily towards her, burying his face against her hip to block out the light. Then he groaned louder just to make his opinions known. She ignored him but that wasn’t a big surprise. Knowing Sakura, she could have been up for hours already and had probably gotten lost in her textbooks long before he woke up.

“It’s too early,” Naruto grumbled.

“You didn’t even look at the clock.” Her voice was distant, definitely absorbed with her books.

“Don’t need to. No alarms going off means too early. Just lay down please?”

Sakura flipped another page and said nothing. It was only the deep abiding love in his heart that gave Naruto the strength to lift his head and face the light, squinting and blinking until his pupils contracted enough that it wasn’t quite as painful. When he could finally see he wasn’t surprised in the slightest by what he found. His own exams had finished the week before but Sakura still had a few to study for and since the stress of it all kept waking her up at night she’d taken to hauling out the books every time that happened.

“What are you even worried for?” Naruto whined as he shuffled around to shove his head in her lap. “You’re gonna ace them all, duh. And then you’re gonna be an _amazing_ doctor. Everyone knows it. So quit stressing and please just sleep.”

“That’s very sweet but you don’t know that! I heard from someone that this biology exam was insane last year!” Sakura turned another page and ignored his efforts, resting her book on the side of his head. As much as he didn’t appreciate being turned in to a book stand this too was unsurprising behavior.

He’d seen worse in their first year of university.

With a heavy sigh and a yawn that nearly cracked his jaw in half Naruto crawled out from under the book and sat up, shimmying over to press their sides together where he could drop his head on to Sakura’s shoulder instead. All he wanted in life was one more night of completely uninterrupted sleep when neither of them woke up in the middle of the night for surprise study sessions. Unfortunately he wouldn’t be getting that until Sakura was done with her exams.

“Alright then,” he said. “I know you made flash cards for this one too, where are they? If I’m up then I might as well help, right?” He shrugged when Sakura turned to stare at him.

“Thank you. I’ve been awful to live with, I know, and I’m sorry. You’ve been so good to me lately.”

“Hey, what are boyfriends for?”

“For treating me like a queen,” she answered quickly, the same line he’d repeated to her a hundred times over.

Naruto grinned sleepily. “Damn straight. Now gimme the flash cards. Yesterday you were saying something about the vascular system tripping you up so let’s start with anything that has to do with that.”

He beamed when Sakura placed a soft kiss on his cheek as she handed the cards over. A familiar light hovered in her eyes and he could already tell that as soon as her exams were over and she’d had time to rest properly she would definitely be cooking something up to show her appreciation for all that he did for her. Naruto smiled back because, although he would never say no to a bit of special treatment, he really didn’t need a reward for any of this.

If it made her smile then it was worth it. The same would always be true no matter what task he found himself faced with, be it late night study sessions or whatever else the world had to throw at them.


	28. Selcouth - Tobirama/Kakashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selcouth - _unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful_

Tobirama had devoted his life thus far to battle and protecting his clan. In public, at least. In his heart he was a man of science and wanted no more than to spend his days unravelling the mysteries of the universe. As the heir of the Senju clan and one of their strongest defenders he simply couldn’t allow himself to do that no matter how he yearned for it.

What he could spend his time doing while still hiding under the excuse of protecting his clan was gather all the information he could on the mysterious Hatake Kakashi. If doing so also happened to be something he wanted desperately to do for himself then that was just good luck. He repeated this mantra in his head while carefully selecting a seat in the living room that would put him close enough to watch Kakashi surreptitiously but also not so close that he might spook the man, oddly skittish as he was.

Loathe as he was to admit precisely _why_ , it was easy for anyone who knew him well to see that Tobirama was fascinated by this new man in their lives. Having been born in the future and come back through time made him interesting already but as a person, on his own merit, there was nothing Kakashi did that did not take up Tobirama’s entire attention span. Who could blame him when clearly the gods had never made another man quite like the one currently sitting on the opposite side of the room with his nose buried in a virulently orange book?

How he could read such racy novels in public without batting an eyelid baffled Tobirama, even more so when it was coupled with a tendency to run at the first sign of emotions. He was a closed book with personal details so most of what others knew about him were things like this that could be observed. The mystery, however, only made him more interesting.

“Can you pass me one of those?” Kakashi’s voice nearly startled Tobirama out of his skin despite the fact that he was staring right at the man. Subtly, of course.

“One of what?” When he looked beside himself there was nothing to hand over so he looked back up – and paused. He could have sworn Kakashi had been a little farther away.

“Never mind.”

Tobirama frowned but let it go. He must be going crazy because there was no reason for Kakashi to move from one end of the sofa to the other when he was the only one sitting on it. If he’d been brave enough or wanted to risk scaring the man away Tobirama might have sat next to him in the first place but instead he had forced himself down on to the loveseat adjacent to the sofa.

Dropping his chin to make it look like he too was reading a book, operation ‘watch Kakashi’ resumed as soon as he was sure his observations would go unnoticed. It just wasn’t fair that the man was so interesting _and_ attractive. Or at least he seemed like he would be attractive. Actually it was sort of hard to tell since he kept most of his body covered at all times, never revealing much more than a quarter of his face and half of each finger. It was just so intriguing.

“Is someone at the door?”

“Hm?” Tobirama instinctively turned his head before realizing that he hadn’t heard anyone knocking, nor could he feel anyone else’s chakra nearby. “No, there’s no one h-”

He cut himself off midsentence to narrow his eyes suspiciously. This time he knew he was right. Kakashi had definitely switched seats while he wasn’t looking. The only thing he didn’t get was why, what the point of moving around the room was. It wasn’t like Tobirama wouldn’t notice the other man steadily getting closer to him after every false distraction. Unfortunately he knew better than to demand answers, unlikely to get him anything except an evening alone, so all he could do was wait and see what happened.

Fortunately for him the wait wasn’t long.

“What’s that over there?”

Tobirama blinked slowly in Kakashi’s direction before ostentatiously turning his head too far in the other direction and making a grand show of scouring the entire room for anything out of the ordinary. Upon finding nothing as he’d expected he turned back around and almost jumped right out of his skin. Kakashi offered a friendly smile from the cushion right next to him.

How on earth did he always manage to be so quiet that even Tobirama couldn’t hear him coming?

“Maa, it must have been nothing,” he chirped before Tobirama could say anything. “Apologies for disturbing your reading.” With that he went back to his own book with every sign of having no idea that he’d been sitting on the far side of the room only a couple minutes ago.

Not sure what to do, unable to stare at the man when they were sitting right next to each other, Tobirama figured the only thing he could do now would be to actually read the book he’d been pretending to read the whole time. When he actually looked it at he wrinkled his nose. He’d already read this text twice and there was really no need for him to read it again but getting up to get something else might look suspicious after so short a time and he didn’t want to give Kakashi any reason to leave. Any time spent together was a gift, especially doing something he actually liked such as quietly enjoying each other’s company without useless chatter.

Although given the chance to learn more about his favorite mystery he would chatter until the end of time without shame.

Fingers fiddling with the pages of his books, Tobirama ran through the contents in his head and tried to pick out the chapter he would be least bored to read over again. While the sealing arts were always fascinating it would have been better if he were exploring new information rather than rehashing things he already knew. Nothing bored him more than going over the same shit again and again. That was the reason he tuned out Hashirama’s babbling so often, unwilling to listen to his excitable sibling tell him the same stories over and over.

Something wiry brushing against the side of his neck jolted Tobirama and gave him something to focus on other than a book he didn’t actually have any desire to read. When he moved to twist his head and look he was met with a face full of hair nearly as pale as his own. Kakashi said nothing as he cuddled deeper in to Tobirama’s side, who also said nothing.

He couldn’t have if he wanted to but really it would have been unnecessary anyway. Very likely his thundering heartbeat said it all for him. A man as observant as the one currently draped over him would be unlikely to miss something so out of the ordinary as a nervous Tobirama. That kind of thing didn’t happen every day – but then again it wasn’t every day that your crush saw fit to pull you in to cuddles without warning and without any previously hints of interest.

After giving a few moments to think about it Tobirama decided against saying anything. Kakashi was like a cat. He would sit where he wanted and seek affection in the ways that pleased him then disappear at the first hint of things not going his way.

It was good luck, then, that Tobirama was so very fond of cats. With a smile he settled down to read his book knowing that with his mind racing the way it was he probably wouldn’t absorb a single word. His favorite mystery had just gotten a little more mysterious and now more than ever he felt driven to unravel it all. Kakashi, it seemed, didn’t mind his efforts half as much as he’d thought.


	29. Astral - Kisame/Mei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astral - _of or relating to the stars_

If anyone asked him whether he was in the business of piracy then Kisame would take a great deal of pleasure in telling them no, he was in the business of finding revenge. Until a few months ago he’d been living the good life with a crew and a ship and the whole sea his for the plundering, the world as his oyster, and now he had nothing but the clothes on his back and the duffel sitting by his side. It was honestly a miracle he’d managed to carry that much with him when his crew had mutinied.

After consulting with a soothsayer who told him to follow the stars and everything he desired would be his, Kisame had spent the past five weeks tracking his lucky constellation. It had led him here to a sleepy port where the water smelled only faintly of salt under the stench of garbage and the townsfolk eyed him strangely as though they weren’t used to seeing a sailor away from his ship. Sitting on the pier with his feet in the water, Kisame leaned against his duffle bag and watched with quiet interest as an unknown ship drifting towards him like a ghost in the fog. The stars above him were particularly bright and something told him that this ship was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

Voices drifted down to him as the ship came closer and Kisame admired the steady way she handled, the quality of her timber, and the daring cut of her sails. Most people stuck to traditional cuts but he’d noticed that anyone who made the leap of faith to try out these new designs was able to fly over the water just that little bit faster than all the rest.

“’Lo below,” a voice called suddenly. “You wouldn’t happen to be the greeting party, would you?”

“Not me. I’m looking for something,” he called back.

“Anything in particular?” A grinning face peeked over the edge but in the darkness all Kisame could see was a head of golden hair and a necklace of crystal that almost seemed to glow. With a shrug he grinned back.

“I’ll know it when I see it.”

The other man gave a grunt of confusion before something on deck appeared to distract him for a moment. His grin was back as he tilted his head to one side and hollered out, “Captain overboard!”

Kisame wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean until a figured tossed itself over the edge in a graceful arc. He tracked the shadow as it fell to land on the pier beside him and then watched as they straightened to reveal a woman with hair like flames curling all the way down to her knees and a small blade stuck through her topknot. From the finer cut of her clothing he could see that this was definitely a captain, made even more obvious by the intricate scabbard hanging from one hip, and he couldn’t help but think that she had made a good choice dressing herself mostly in rich royal blues.

Cocking one hip and crossing her arms, the woman looked him up and down before one side of her neatly painted lips turned up in a smirk that captured him entirely. Kisame opened his mouth to say something – and then closed it. Directly above her head, almost as though her topknot were pointing the way, his lucky constellation twinkled so brightly it shone through the foggy night like a beacon.

“Suppose I’ve just found what I was looking for,” he rumbled. The woman lifted one eyebrow.

“Took the words right out of my mouth. We’re looking for a few good men; lost some of ours over the past few months and it’s getting hard to run raids when we don’t have enough arms to carry the bounty.”

Her voice was smooth and carried just the right accent to sound like home to his poor land bound ears. Kisame looked back up at the ship he’d just been admiring and watched as the crew slipped over the side one after the other. Apparently he’d be getting to work right away if he accepted the job.

“Lost them how?” he asked first because that was definitely the sort of question a man in his profession should ask.

“No deaths, if that’s your worry. They all had the misfortune to fall in love with city folk. Up and left me for the quiet life.” The woman shrugged as if it meant little to her but Kisame had always been good at reading people. She was happy to see her crew find new and prosperous situations.

“Place of my own to sleep?”

He watched her look him down and back up one more time.

“If you don’t like the hammocks I’ve always got space in my bed,” she said boldly. Kisame laughed.

“Call me yours, Captain…?”

“Mei. Terumi Mei. And I certainly will, have no doubts about that.”

She winked and turned away to whisper last minute instructions to her crew before they raided the sleepy little town. From what he’d seen in the day or two since he washed up here himself, they’d chosen a profitable little spot to hit. It appeared that the soothsayer had been right. All he’d done was follow the stars and he’d found exactly what he needed: a crew, a boat, and a strong woman to follow in to hell.


	30. Erubescent - Mikoto/Kushina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erubescent - _reddening or blushing_

“I’m not scared, I can tell her!” Kushina made a fist and shook it at her friend warningly. Instead of looking terrified as he should have, all Minato did was cross his arms with an indulgent smile.

“Of course you can,” he said.

“Don’t patronize me!”

“Well go on then, I’m waiting. Go tell her how you feel.” Minato gestured across the park at the girl they were talking about with a knowing look.

Recently returned from a high profile mission, Mikoto lounged nearby with some of their friends recounting every gruesome detail of what had happened. Inoichi was hanging off her every word with a shamelessly fascinated expression and Kushina’s only comfort was knowing that the man had been engaged since he was five years old. Without a family of her own to arrange something for her Kushina had thankfully escaped that fate. The Uchiha, she had been relieved to learn, were too cautious of their own dōjutsu to risk arranged marriages going down the toilet, something she was very grateful for.

Mostly because it left Mikoto free for her to dream about and pretend that someday her best friend might see her the same way, with rose colored dreams and longing glances, daydreams not rated for public description.

“I don’t see you going anywhere.”

“You’re gonna see my fist going down your throat if you don’t shut your yap,” Kushina snapped, setting Minato off in a fit of laughter. “Shit! Shut up! Here she comes!”

Not wanting to let someone else make her look like a fool in front of her crush, she unrepentantly shoved Minato backwards off the bench they were sitting on. Unfortunately it only made him laugh harder as his back hit the dirt and his legs kicked up in the air with glee. Some boys just refused to mature as they grew up.

“Hey Mi!” she called as the other girl drew close.

“I’ve asked you not to use that ridiculous diminutive.” Despite the serious tone, Mikoto’s lips twitched with a smile. “Do you have a minute? I need to speak with you.”

“Sure! Minato was being a dummy-head anyway. Let’s get out of here. Hey! We could head over to the training grounds and I could show you this cool new seal I mastered while you were gone! You know, the one I was telling you about?” Unable to stop herself even as she tried, Kushina did her best not to look ashamed of her own nervous chattering.

Thankfully Mikoto didn’t seem to mind. Her friend followed along at her side as they made their way out of the park and down the empty pathways through the surrounding forest. As they walked Kushina continued to blather on, reminding herself several times that they had left the park only because Mikoto had something to talk to her about yet somehow unable to convince herself to shut the hell up, hating her own babbling habit more and more with every step.

By the time they reached the training field she was ready to strangle herself with her own hair. It took a monumental amount of strength but finally she made herself stop for breath.

“Uh, you wanted to talk about something right?”

“Yes, actually. But you said you had something to show me so go ahead with that first.” Mikoto smiled politely and waved towards the open field but Kushina shook her head.

“No, that’s okay!” she chirped. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, well…no I suppose it can wait for another day.” Strangely, Mikoto almost seemed like she was avoiding the subject. Strong-willed and confident, never afraid to say what she was thinking, Mikoto had never been afflicted with shyness for a day in her life. That she seemed to be so now sent up dozens of red flags.

Kushina was a bit busy to see them, however, as she was much more interested in watching the slow blossom of pretty pink as it spread across her best friend’s cheeks.

“Damn, why do you always have to be so cute?” The question slipped out absently, muttered under her breath and without her even really realizing what she’d said. It took Mikoto staring at her with wide eyes for her brain to catch up with her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! Hey, watch this!”

Face suddenly rivalling her own hair for brightest shade of red, Kushina spun away to face the open field and began scrambling through her weapons pouch for some of the premade seals she’d been carrying around to show off.

“I like you!” Mikoto’s blush had also kick up several notches when Kushina slowly turned back to gape at her. “Okay, I meant to be a little more tactful than that. I didn’t mean to be as boorish as to just blurt it out so suddenly but, ahem, yes. I like you. And I’m tired of trying to figure out whether you like me too.”

“You mean…you _like me_ like me?”

“Correct.” Mikoto lifted her chin so high it looked like it was ready to snap up, her spine so straight it was almost bent backwards, shoulders stiff in the way they always were when she tried to look self-assured rather than embarrassed.

“Wait, so _you_ confessed your feelings for _me_?” Kushina swallowed hard. “I didn’t see that coming.”

Still blushing furiously, Mikoto turned her head away with a delicate snort. “In that case I won’t bother you with this any longer. My apologies for assuming–”

“Hold on just a damn second! I didn’t say I didn’t feel the same! Quit being so snooty, Mi!”

“I have asked you not to call me that!”

Kushina bit her lip to hold in the wide smile trying to take over her face. After a few seconds Mikoto seemed to finally hear what she’d said and took her turn gaping like a fool, her overly proper persona wavering in face of the shock of having her feelings returned. For a few minutes the two of them stood staring at each other in wonder. Clearly neither one of them had expected this.

Eventually it was Kushina who shook away her stupor first and propped both fists on her hips.

“Well get over here and kiss me then!” she demanded.

Mikoto laughed first, though she did eventually comply with such a polite request. How could she not when it was all she had ever wanted?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing these two and I have decided I have no idea how to write these two. :\


	31. Noctambulist - Izuna/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctambulist – _a sleepwalker_

There wasn’t really anything specific that woke him up – or at least nothing that he could pinpoint. After two decades of sleeping alone before the village was formed it seemed unlikely that it was the mere fact of finding himself so now that could bring him out of a dead sleep. More likely it was the sudden rush of cold where he had been warm until just a couple of minutes ago. Izuna scowled at the empty sheets on the other side of the bed. Where the hell had Tobirama gotten to this time?

Shoving the blankets down and trying not to hiss when his feet touched cold hardwood, Izuna stretched and yawned as he stepped in to the hallway and looked up and down. No lights on anywhere. That at least mostly dispelled the idea that Tobirama might have gotten up for another midnight research binge. For probably the millionth time in his life Izuna cursed the fact that he’d been born with no natural sensing abilities. He could infuse a bit of chakra and get a rough here-or-not-here feeling but after depleting his reserves so badly during that last mission it was honestly less trouble just to pad around the house and look for himself.

Not that it was a long search. As soon as he stepped in to the kitchen Izuna broke out in a sleepy smile, his quarry caught red-handed.

“Hey, love,” he called. “What are ya doing?” Tobirama turned unseeing eyes in his direction and rolled the half dozen pair of chopsticks he was holding between both hands.

“It’s my turn to set the table,” he mumbled.

“Oh, are we having a fancy dinner?” Izuna bit his lip to hold in the laughter as he watched Tobirama stumble his way over to the table and begin arranging the chopsticks in a nonsensical pattern that only his dreams could explain.

“Uh-huh.”

Helpless affection welled up inside him as he stood there watching Tobirama trundle back and forth between the cupboards and the table, taking out dishes and cookware at random then arranging them all in what could eventually be recognized as a vague sealing pattern. Apparently his sleeping mind was mixing up the idea of a nice family dinner with the experimental seal he’d been trying to figure out for the past week or so. Izuna shook his head. There was no telling what would happen if Tobirama tried to activate a seal that was drawn in dishes but he wasn’t prepared to deal with whatever it was until they had both slept a little more.

“Come on,” he said, stepping over to take his lover’s arm in a gentle grasp. “It looks lovely and dinner was great. Now it’s time for bed.”

“Okay.” Tobirama followed sedately behind him. For a man so versed in the arts of violence he was oddly placid whenever his sleepwalking was interrupted, easy to guide back to bed where he could usually be trusted to stay for the rest of the night.

Just to be safe Izuna made sure to tuck him in tightly before crawling in to bed on the other side. For good measure he draped one arm over his partner’s hip and nuzzled against the back of his neck, willing to let himself be disturbed again on the off chance that Tobirama got up a second time. At least one of them should make sure they both got rest.

“Was dinner really okay?” Already halfway back to passing out properly, Tobirama hummed and wriggled to find a more comfortable spot to rest in.

“Yup. Delicious.”

“That’s good. Love you.”

“Ah.” Izuna smiled without opening his eyes, feeling like the luckiest man on earth no matter how badly he needed the sleep that had been interrupted. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all of them! Thanks to everyone who commented!


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